


To Become a Hero

by Altepoch



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Bond Shenanigans, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Minor Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22135933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Altepoch/pseuds/Altepoch
Summary: Tarys Valerys needs to become more than a Jedi, more than a protector, more than a warrior - he needs to become a hero.A Padawan and a Sith Acolyte become bonded through the Force just as the galaxy falls back into war after only a decade of tenuous peace. They both have to grow in order to face the trials and tribulations that await them as they and their companions embark on journeys that will shape the fate of the galaxy for centuries to come - and all while cracking the puzzle of what they mean to each other.'Our entire lives have been a war, what is peace, then, if not a lie?''An ideal. Something to strive for.'
Relationships: Eventual Lana Beniko/Theron Shan, Male Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython & Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Male Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Female Sith Inquisitor, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 42





	1. Prologue: One Hundred and Seven Days

**Author's Note:**

> This is a long one. If the summary and tags didn't give it away, this fic is supposed to be a novelisation for what I like to think my Jedi Knight went through on his way to becoming the Hero of Tython and beyond - with a romantic twist not possible in the game. As such, it should (fingers crossed) be perfectly accessible to people who haven't played the game but are familiar with the Star Wars galaxy. 
> 
> There's a couple of things I want to say I changed from the game's "canon" just in case they put you off (although they probably shouldn't?):
> 
> SPOILERS FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN'T PLAYED THE GAME - THESE WON'T MATTER TO YOU IF YOU DON'T KNOW THE PLOT ALREADY PLEASE SKIP TO THE ACTUAL STORY.
> 
> \- Kira is born in 3658 BBY rather than 3663 BBY as the wiki states. With the main character (Tarys) being born in 3661 BBY it felt wrong that his eventual Padawan would be older than him, so she's three years younger than the leading characters, making her fifteen at the start of the story proper. Don't worry, no underage Kira romance (or Kira romance at all, great as it is in the game). This also applies to Nadia Grell and Ashara Zavros, they are both definitively younger than their PC counterparts, I'm saying Nadia was born in 3659 BBY and Ashara in 3658 BBY like Kira.
> 
> \- Tarys is the Padawan to Satele Shan rather than Orgus Din. The reason for this was that as awesome as Orgus is, having him be Satele's Padawan felt like it gave me more room to explore the implications of this relationship on his future relationship with Theron and it just felt more fun.
> 
> \- I've tried to mix the game's lore/old EU lore with new canon as much as possible while keeping the substance of the world largely the same. Eg. Sith use corrupted kyber crystals rather than synth crystals, in-line with canon.

### Prologue: One Hundred and Seven Days

Admiral Ethys Valerys breathed a characteristically deep sigh of relief as he finally left the Spiral after another twelve hours of incessant meetings with senators, generals and anyone who thought themselves a part of the war. Ethys relished those first few steps out of the automatic door as he looked forward to seeing his wife and his infant son. The admiral shook his head gently to himself, he had a son. The thought alone brought a conspicuous toothy smile to his face, he didn’t care how strange he looked as he got into his parked speeder - he had a son.

Ethys’ family was the only refuge he had from the horrors of the war that the galaxy was embroiled in. Twenty years the galaxy had fought and peace still seemed a lifetime away. The admiral was only fifteen when the war began but he knew on the day he heard the announcement that he would do his part for the Republic and so he joined the navy as soon as he was able, foregoing university education in favour of experience among the stars. He received his latest promotion only a few months earlier, only twenty-six days before the birth of his son in fact, and only one hundred and thirty-three days before today. It was difficult not to keep a note of how many days had passed since then, for every day that passed was another day that his son would have to live through a war. One hundred and seven. That was how many days Tarys Valerys had been alive so far and every one of them had been war.

Today was different though, the admiral had finally received a new posting - to helm the new Republic Star Destroyer, the _Resilience_. He would finally be back in the skies and be able to bring his family on board too, after a month of ‘breaking in’ the ship, that was. Ensuring all systems worked well enough was only a formality but one that was necessary before civilians were brought permanently onto the vessel. If it meant that he could do his job and be with his family at the same time, it would be worth every painful second away from them.

Part of him missed it feeling of piloting, and driving a speeder around the crowded skylanes of Coruscant didn’t help. He revelled in the feeling of flying a starfighter through battles in the stars. Despite the ugliness of war, space had permanent beauty that he could never forget. Success and promotions had a way of driving someone away from what they truly loved unless they found something they loved even more along the way. For him, that was his wife, the hot-headed philosopher he met when he finally completed his degree at the University of Coruscant after nearly two years of spending more time off-world than on it. He still couldn’t believe he was able to marry quite that high up, and now they had brought a child into the world.

Looking at his little boy was a feeling Ethys could never put into words, he’d tried. Pride, joy and hope were the closest things to words he could use to describe it. He envied his wife, she didn’t have to spend most of the day away from him, she worked from home, spending her time writing away on her keyboard mere feet away from their son. _Philosophers_ , he scoffed. He reminded himself that she was the one who had to carry him and give birth to the boy as well as the endless task of breastfeeding the infant - maybe he didn’t have it so bad.

He’d finally reached the familiar door of his Senate district apartment, for all the struggles of being in the top brass of the military, being able to live in such a nice place made him feel fortunate. He’d finally crossed into his world, a place where he could see his wife and son whenever he wanted. Ethys practically threw his briefcase onto his desk and walked out into the lounge where Arynna, his impossibly beautiful wife, was typing away on her datapad while the news was on the holodisplay in front of their sofa.

“There he is!” Ethys exclaimed, inspecting his son laying in his cot.

“Shhh… he’s sleeping, I walked the length of the city with him in my arms to get him there, so if you wake him up I _will_ kill you.” Her exhausted glare suggested her threat wasn’t entirely a joke.

They had bought a nanny droid to care of their son in the sadly not uncommon occasions where both he and his wife were out but when either was present the droid might as well have not been there as they preferred to take care of him themselves.

“I’d never, what sort of father do you take me for?” He replied, mocking offence.

“ _Your_ sort,” his wife retorted. “Also, I invited Satele over for eight so get ready, she’ll be here in an hour.”

She did _what_?

They’d been planning to invite her over to meet their son but he was hoping that that would be later, as in _not_ the day before he was deployed.

“So you just invited one of the greatest heroes of the war over for dinner when she could have a hundred and one different things to do?”

“She doesn’t, I told you she’s coming didn’t I?” His wife flashed him a winning smile.

He had always loved (and been jealous of) her confidence in her actions and no matter what she did staying angry at his wife was simply not in Ethys’s DNA so he instead just helped his wife tidy the house in advance of their friend's arrival. They met Satele during a celebration dinner following Alderaan, it had been almost six years ago and he was lucky to have survived the massacre. Thankfully the Jedi arrived and single-handedly turned the tide of the battle, he was hundreds of kilometres at the sky then but even hearing it all on the comms… it was almost too good to be true at the time. Since then, she’d become their steadfast friend and something of an older sister to his wife, how she hadn’t become annoyed to death by her he didn’t know but a sneaking suspicion told him it was the same reason he’d married her.

Satele Shan arrived only a few minutes later and they exchanged greetings but her brow furrowed as soon as she stepped into their home.

Arynna noticed as well, “Satele, what’s wrong?” she asked, worried at the Jedi’s troubled look.

“I feel another presence in the Force and I’ve never felt one before when I’ve been here” she answered.

It wasn’t hard for Ethys to put two and two together, “You don’t mean to say that-”

“Could I see your son?”

Stunned into silence, the two of them showed Satele to Tarys’s nursery, Ethys put an arm around Arynna, to comfort himself as much as her because if what he thought was true then it would change everything.

The Jedi Knight walked up to the cot where their infant son slept soundly and picked him up, cradling him in her arms. Ethys waited and waited with bated breath for what Satele would say and after an era of trepidation she finally spoke:

“It’s him. Your son is Force-sensitive, and quite strongly at that.” Satele declared.

Ethys’ mind jumped to the obvious conclusion, “Does that mean that you have to take him?”

He felt his wife squeeze his arm when he said that, the prospect of having their son taken from them was too much for her as well as him. His mind raced at the speed of light, thinking bittersweetly of the absolute joy and excitement he felt when he found out he was going to be a father. Now, with only three short months with his son would he be taken away from him?

“I should. I really should, a child in whom the Force is this strong should be trained with the Jedi. But the decision is yours. I can’t force you to give up your son if you don’t want to, not after the party you threw when you found out you were pregnant.” The Jedi gave a wistful smile, she seemed to understand, at least a little.

Ethys turned to his wife, the fear in her brown eyes broke his heart, he couldn’t bear to see her like this.

“What do you think?” He couldn’t say anymore, he was on the verge of tears as it was.

“Our son, a Jedi.” Her voice broke when she spoke the words as a lump formed in Ethys’s throat. They were on the same page on this, he knew, nothing would make them prouder than to watch their son grow up to protect the galaxy with the Jedi but that’s all they would be able to do: watch. He’d never be able to play with his son, never be able to even have a relationship with him.

“Take all the time you need to decide, I understand it’s a difficult decision.” The Jedi Knight said, in the same mournful tone as before.

“Satele, do you remember your mother?”

Ethys needed to know, he’d heard of the controversy surrounding her mother and her views on attachment. He needed to know. If they gave their son away, would he even remember them?

He knew the right thing, the decent thing to do was give Tarys over, he would be able to do so much good as a Jedi but he wanted to be selfish, just this once, he wanted a life with his son in it. Again, he found himself waiting for Satele’s answer, the woman’s words had guided him so much before, hopefully, she could make it count this time as well.

“No.”

That simple sound destroyed him, even Satele seemed upset at this point, needless to say, this was not a happy situation for anyone. He looked at his son, he knew he’d inherited his own blue eyes but they weren’t visible as he slept, unaware that his future was being decided around him.

Arynna took Ethys’s hand and guided him to the living room and Satele quickly followed, they all sat down in the same silence that dominated what was supposed to be their cheerful evening.

“I know how hard this is, I do, if you don’t want to give him up I just won’t mention it to anyone, I understand.” Satele’s voice betrayed an unexpected sadness, beyond simple empathy.

“How could you? How could you possibly know what it’s like to have to choose a future without your child in it? To never be able to hug them, or kiss them goodnight again, or do anything you imagined you would as a parent? How could you?” Arynna’s words were venom, she was angry, though not at Satele, not really. Ethys knew exactly how she felt, she’d always been the more vocal of the two of them, but he also knew her anger was directed towards the situation itself, not the woman sat opposite he knew she cared for deeply.

“Because I’m living that future,” said Satele, it looked like she might have cried herself, were it not for the Jedi training compelling her to suppress emotion.

“What do you mean?” Ethys asked, curious about what she was talking about.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be talking about this, but I have a son.” She sighed deeply before continuing. “Theron, he's five now, my old master is raising him. He wouldn't recognise me if he saw me and every day I ask myself if I made the right decision and the truth is that I don’t know. I did it for the sake of my duty, I am still a Jedi, to raise him myself would be to go back on my oaths. You haven’t made any promises like that, raising Tarys is a real option for you. Sure, the galaxy might miss out on a powerful Jedi but at least you won’t miss out on having your son with you, and he won’t miss out on having parents.”

It took a minute for that to truly sink in for Ethys, and he was sure his wife felt the same, Satele Shan had a child? It seemed impossible at first thought but here she was, opening up to the two of them.

“Needless to say, I need you to keep this a secret, very few people know and I’d prefer it to stay that way.”

“I’m so sorry, I- well, I guess you do understand. I thought I knew you so well.” Arynna gave a rueful laugh. “I… don’t know, I’m no closer to making a decision.”

“We’ll sleep on it.” Ethys offered, incredulous at what transpired in the evening.

“Of course, and know that whichever decision you make, you’ll be great parents.” Satele consoled. She showed herself to the door leaving Ethys and Arynna in silence once they heard the sound of the door closing. All he could do was hold his wife as tight as he could, their son nestled in between them.

They exchanged only a few words the rest of the day, their minds occupied by the weight of the decision they would have to make. That night they did not sleep. They discussed their problems, as they always did and came to a simple conclusion: Tarys Valerys would be the name of a Jedi.

It seemed one hundred and seven days was all he would get.

* * *

“Explosion near the Spiral in the early morning. A speeder exploded en route to the Spiral early this morning, it is believed by the Coruscant Security Force following a preliminary investigation that a bomb was planted on the underside of the speeder and was remotely triggered. The vehicle was carrying Admiral Ethys Valerys and his wife Arynna, the admiral, previously a target of three other assassination attempts and veteran of five major naval battles was due to take command of the Capital Ship Resilience after emergency plans were enacted by the Supreme Commanders to counter the Imperial threat.”

Satele had difficulty swallowing her breakfast as she processed the information that the newscaster had announced. Ethys and Arynna were dead. It was wrong, they couldn’t have been, she saw them only yesterday. Ethys wasn’t supposed to be deployed, he didn’t mention it, surely he would have said something. She got ready as fast as possible and left the Temple, she needed to see for herself. She borrowed a speeder bike from the Temple garage, it would be faster. Skirting the speed limits, she made her way to the street the news mentioned as fast as possible, only to see law enforcement already present and surrounding the scene.

She asked the policeman guarding the site if she could see for herself, and Satele being who she was, she wasn’t denied access and saw that it was true, she recognised that speeder, it belonged to Ethys, they _were_ dead. The Jedi Knight had to remind herself of her training, not allowing her emotions to overwhelm her. Her grieving mind drifted to the possibility that she was somehow the cause of their death, she couldn’t have been, just because she was likely the last person to see them didn’t mean she had anything to do with it. Nonetheless, the thought that maybe she pressured them regarding Tarys made her very uneasy.

What happened to him?

That simple question dominated her thoughts as she raced back to her dead friends’ apartment, surely he’d be alright, he was only a baby. Surely no one would target a baby. She kept telling herself that but she knew deep down that there were those in the galaxy who would go as far as killing an infant, after all, she’d seen it done. Thankfully her status as a war hero granted her the ability to avoid the clogged skylanes of Coruscant, especially as people made their way to their workplaces in the early morning.

Staring at the door of the apartment she’d been in only the night before, she swallowed hard, preparing herself for the possibility that the sweet little boy she’d seen had been killed. Arynna had told her that they had bought a nanny droid to care for their son in their absence. She knocked on the door, tapping her foot rapidly on the floor as she waited to see if the droid would open the door.

Every second that passed made her more anxious. She waited and waited and waited. Finally, she heard the locks on the door click as the metallic face of a droid revealed itself and greeted her.

“Hello Master Satele, what can I do for you?”

“Can you let me in, I need to see the baby.” Satele pled.

“I’m afraid not ma’am, Master Ethys and Mistress Arynna are out and my instructions forbid me to allow anyone in, even you.” the droid told Satele, unaware of what had happened.

“Your owners are dead, I need to make sure that Tarys is alright, let me in.” The Jedi imbued her voice with authority as she was wont to do in recent days.

“Dead?”

“Check the news.”

The droid spent another few seconds scouring the Holonet for the information Satele alerted it to.

Satele’s growing impatience was met with the door slowly opening as the droid recognised that its masters were, in fact, dead. Satele practically ran into the nursery and found to her infinite relief that the boy was alright, still sleeping. She gave an audible sigh, releasing her anxiety with it.

“Did they leave a will?” Satele needed to know, if there was one, executing it was the least she could do.

“No ma’am, and neither Master Ethys nor Mistress Arynna has any living relatives.” responded the droid.

She knew that. They’d all died in the war. Ethys came from a military family, and his father died early into his Ethys’s career in the navy and Arynna’s parents died after a bombing run some two years earlier. That meant everything they owned now belonged to the orphan baby that slept in the cot in front of her. Satele needed to meditate. She needed guidance from the Force and with luck, it would help her figure out what to do next. Would she take Tarys into the Order?

She wanted to but she wouldn’t want to go against the wishes of the boy’s parents; honouring their vision for their child’s future was her duty to her friends. Peace and serenity filled her busy mind as she reached out to the Force, both for guidance and comfort.

The Force answered with a vision of a young man activating his lightsaber, revealing a light blue beam, then another in his other hand. In front of him was a throne surrounded by crimson banners bearing the Imperial insignia and on it was a hooded figure, and even in that apartment in Coruscant, Satele could feel the darkness that the figure embodied.

Could that young man have been Tarys?

Satele wasn’t sure that that vision was of the future, surely not?

Regardless of her doubts, she knew enough to trust in the Force, it had never lied to her before and if that was how it answered her question, then it was clear that the child in front of her was destined for the life of a Jedi. She picked him up and addressed the droid,

“Tarys is force-sensitive I’ll be taking him to the Temple to live with the Jedi, it’s the safest place for him.”

“My programming prevents me from allowing Master Tarys to leave my presence without the express permission of a Jedi Master or a higher authority.”

It was an inconvenience to be sure, but Satele was glad Ethys and Arynna had the sense to only entrust their son to a droid with strict protocols, it seems they were prepared, perhaps not for this, but something. She brought out her holocomm and dialled a call to Grand Master Zym, his authority was as high as it went after all.

“Greetings Satele, what can I do for you?” the Kel Dor Jedi asked.

“I’ll explain fully when I am back at the Temple but this droid needs the confirmation of a Jedi Master so that I’m allowed to bring a force-sensitive child with me,” Satele answered.

She turned the comm towards the droid and let the Grand Master give his assent to the droid, Master Zym also suggested that the droid come to the Temple too, it would be a waste after all if it was scrapped and the creche could always use more hands to help raise the younglings.

It was a mistake to only bring a speeder bike.

It was certainly a chore to go back to the temple and requisition a full speeder but she wasn’t about to risk anyone’s life by cramming herself, the droid and a baby onto one bike. Nonetheless, she got everyone to the Temple made her way to the creche where she told the Jedi in charge of the creche Tarys’s name and background.

Satele hoped she did the right thing bringing him here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fic! I'm very excited to be finally publishing.
> 
> For those who were confused, the 'Spiral' is supposed to be the building that the Republic's military is headquartered in on Coruscant - not at all inspired by a real-world building, I assure you ;)
> 
> Please feel free to tell me your first impressions! I'd love to hear them. Of course, please please please give some constructive criticism, what did you like? What didn't you like so much?
> 
> PS. It felt wrong to publish a story where you don't even meet the main character yet, so Chapter 1 is also up!


	2. The Gathering

### Chapter 1: The Gathering

“Initiates, tomorrow is the start of a very special journey for you, it will only last a few days but to not mistake me when I say that this is what your training so far has culminated to because tomorrow you will embark on your Gathering.”

Master Liam Dentiri’s words inspired awed murmurs among the eight Jedi-in-training that were called to meet the Jedi Master after their first meditation session. Tarys was no exception, he would get his kyber crystal! More than that, however, it meant that his masters had found that he made for a good enough Initiate to progress onto being Padawan soon, at least he hoped. 

“Count yourselves lucky younglings, you’re among the first few dozen initiates to undertake the Gathering in over a decade since the Sith attacked Ilum during the War,” Master Dentiri continued.

All the initiates were bursting with excitement at this point and had to be reminded of the serious nature of the ritual but more importantly that they had to be ready by the small hours of the following morning; no one was overly fond of the idea of waking up even earlier but if it was to take the first step in building a lightsaber it would be worth it.

Following their lesson in history and politics in the afternoon, Tarys entered his customary meditation session and began reflecting on what Master Dentiri said, he was lucky when he came to think about it. He had just turned twelve, which meant he was at the best possible time to be selected as a Padawan and he’d worked hard enough that he was probably one of the better fighters in his cohort and his skills with the Force weren’t anything to scoff at either, he was a member of the Dragon clan, after all, to be the best was in their nature. 

He was lucky to have great friends too, even if the competition they gave him was too good for his liking sometimes, especially Ishra Datharr, her ability with the Force was something Tarys was jealous of if he were honest with himself. Not too jealous though, that leads to the dark side. Nonetheless, she was fun to be around and a great sparring partner to boot. 

Master Satele was very helpful as well, he remembered seeing her a few times when he was very young but not as much as after the war ended though, which made sense, after all, she was the one who rediscovered Tython and led the entire Order’s relocation here. She seemed like she should’ve been busy all the time but she always seemed to find time to help the initiates and she’d been a great source of advice for Tarys, and was always there for a kind word when he needed it. It still feels strange when the other initiates ask him how he knows her though, he never knew what to say, she’d just always been around.

He thought about the tournament, it worried him. The yearly Jedi Apprentice Tournament was the opportunity for initiates to show off their skills so that someone would pick them as their Padawan. Tarys had to do well, he had to become a Padawan as soon as possible, he had to if he had any hope of surpassing Master Satele. He probably could have trained better for it though, thinking about it. He knew the rules: initiates from all the classes would be pitted against each other one-on-one until there would be a free for all as the final round.

The problem was only one of the rules: they had to use one training saber. Tarys had only been training with one saber during his proper lessons in the afternoons. Everyone else was needless to say training away and getting better and better at using a lightsaber but Tarys was just so good at using two. It had been almost two years since he learned about Jar’kai and he was almost obsessed, he’d asked some practitioners in the Temple to teach him and they did, but they cautioned him not to be overambitious and maybe he was about to feel the sting of that truth.

If he went up against Ishra he was done for, that girl was probably trained in her own time just as much as Tarys did but she probably didn’t entertain any funny ideas about using two lightsabers, and she told him she was practising something secret to prepare as well but what that could be escaped him. If he wasn’t meditating he probably would’ve begun pacing by now, thankfully the serenity of the Temple garden he was in relaxed him, he focused for the remainder of the hour on the calming sounds of grass dancing in the wind and water flowing in the nearby waterfall.

Tarys was late.

He was so so late, he only had ten minutes to get ready and have breakfast and do his morning lightsaber practise and meditate before lessons started. Nevermind, the practice and meditation, and while he thought about it, he would have to skip breakfast too, he quickly put on his robes and grabbed the bag he’d prepared the day before, wait no he’d forgotten his toothbrush. Another minute. He counted each second as it passed to keep track of just how late he was, so far it wasn’t looking good.

Everyone else was probably there five minutes early, what was Master Dentiri going to say? Could he be kicked off the Gathering? Hopefully not, he swallowed his anxiety and sprinted to the Temple courtyard, where they were supposed to meet up. A lump of shame formed in his throat as he felt the eyes of every Master, Knight and blade of grass on him as he ran for his life.

“Sorry, I’m late!” Tarys declared, bowing to show just how apologetic he was.

“You’re two minutes early Initiate Valerys,” Master Dentiri responded, “The letter I gave you had the time ten minutes early on it. Everyone and their mother knows to tell you the wrong time if they want you to be on time anywhere.”

The Jedi Master’s sigh didn’t relay disappointment so much as resignation that Tarys would never be on time. As he tried to catch his breath, Tarys noted that if he was two minutes early that meant he didn’t need to run as fast. His friend Jodal asked him once why the Jedi fosterers hadn’t placed him in Squall clan if he was fast, which was something he prided himself on during physical training, Tarys suspected that it was because they foresaw that he would never be on time.

Sure enough, everyone else arrived promptly, to watch Tarys recover from his near-death experience of course, not the Gathering. He wasn’t surprised in the least to find Ishra among the faces in the group bound for Ilum but in his excitement, he did forget she was coming. Once they were all here, the initiates boarded the Crucible, the ship that was newly built to ferry initiates to and from Ilum as they did their Gathering for the foreseeable future.

It was a brand new Defender-class corvette purpose-built for the Jedi Order, which was infinitely cool in Tarys’s opinion. What he wouldn’t give to pilot one of those. Once he was inside he noticed just how new everything looked, he was almost hesitant to touch anything because he might ruin it. With them was someone Tarys noticed was wearing a Padawan’s braid, they probably came to lead them in their Gathering under Master Dentiri. He spent as long as he could exploring the ship, just staring at its insides in the hopes he could glean some secret about its inner mechanisms, to no avail, of course.

The Padawan then beckoned them all to the centre of the ship, a circular room with a holotable in the centre and had all the initiates sit down in the surprisingly soft sofas in a semicircle so she could address them. Ishra found a seat next to Tarys and he was thankful for it, she was the only one he knew of the eight initiates on the ship.

“Hello initiates, it’s a pleasure to meet you all, my name is Kiva Cedrest and I’ll be leading you through your Gathering over the next few days, the trip to Ilum will take about an hour which is perfect for you to meditate over what you’re about to do and what it means to be a Jedi to you because your answer to that question will be tested when you get there,” the Padawan was resolute in what she said, after all, she had been through it herself.

“Well said Padawan Cedrest,” Master Dentiri said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “She’s right, younglings, the Gathering will likely be the most difficult thing you’ve done in your entire lives so far so it’s best if you used this time to mentally prepare.”

“I thought we were just supposed to pick up our crystals?” Ishra whispered into his ear, “What’s all this about testing and mentally preparing?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, I guess we’ll find out,” Tarys whispered back.

They followed Padawan Kiva to the meditation chamber on the ship where they were left alone with their thoughts until the ship reached its destination. 

He did as the Padawan asked and centred himself, beginning meditation.

What does being a Jedi mean?

Guilt washed over him, realising he’d never really given the question any thought, always taking his presence in the Order for granted. The instructors always said the purpose of the Jedi was to preserve life and to uphold the values of the Republic, justice, freedom, and honour. It was a difficult question but Tarys agreed it was one worth answering.

He racked his brain for an answer but he was at a loss? What was a Jedi? What was he? What did he want to be? Tarys knew he wanted to be a Jedi, and a good one, but what was that? He kept thinking and thinking until he was interrupted by Padawan Kiva to let them know that they’d arrived. She told them to put on their coldest warmest clothes before they went outside and so all the initiates put on the thick coats that they were provided before they headed out.

Tarys was very glad he’d put his coat on.

Ilum was covered in snow. Scratch that, Ilum _was_ snow. As soon as he stepped off the Crucible the biting cold threatened to freeze him then and there, he thought it was a wonder anyone made it off the ball of ice alive. His peers felt the same as they were all shivering and chattering, their bodies hoping to keep some semblance of warmth. Master Dentiri and the Padawan led the group, with the former being somehow unfazed by the cold, he couldn’t have been human, even Padawan Kiva was hugging herself for warmth.

The group of ten marched through the thick snow to make it to an enormous wall that stretched in either direction as far as the horizon. Despite the cold Tarys was awed. The Temple wasn’t a building like any other he’d seen before, it had been carved into the terrain itself, it was essentially part of the planet. Two giant statues like the ones back at Tython and Coruscant guarded the entrance to the Temple, each holding their lightsabers in front of them as a warning to any intruders.

The scale of the Temple continued to impress him when the party reached the main chamber. To say it had high ceilings would be a gross understatement and from that ceiling hung a giant kyber crystal, positioned in the middle opposite a hole on the side they’d just come from and another wall of ice that seemed to seal the passage forward.

Once again, Padawan Kiva gathered them all in front of her while Master Liam watched and began talking to the initiates after building a fire to keep them a little warm,

“The temple you’re sitting in now has been around for thousands of years, right back to the beginning of our Order. Generations after generations of Jedi have come here to find their kyber crystals, or rather so their kyber crystals find them. You must understand what it is you’re going to be leaving Ilum with. Kyber crystals are very special crystals that focus the energy in a lightsaber to create the blade that we use.” She took her lightsaber and pointed to its centre, “The crystal is right here, but it isn’t just any crystal, it’s mine, it’s bonded to me and yours will be bonded to you too.

“Every Jedi has a bond with their lightsaber crystal and while you can use other people’s lightsabers all you want, it’ll never feel right. That’s why the Gathering is so important, it’s much more than just finding a lightsaber part. It’s an important part of what will make you Jedi. And the lightsabers that the crystals will go into are much more than weapons. They’re symbols of you being Jedi and they’re also part of you as Jedi. Thousands, hundreds of thousands have Jedi have walked through this very hall to claim their crystal and soon you will join them.”

The Padawan’s impassioned speech couldn’t help but bring a bright grin to Tarys’s face, he got a little closer to understanding what it meant to be a Jedi, it meant being part of a millennia-old legacy and to walk in the footsteps of countless great protectors of the galaxy who’d come before him. At least that was part of it. Tarys had no idea that kyber crystals meant so much, it all sounded so… personal. He needed to know something though, he raised his hand and waited until Padawan Kiva nodded in his direction.

“Can a Jedi claim more than one crystal?”

The question gave the Padawan some pause, “That’s a very good question, I’m not sure actually, Master Liam?”

The Master stepped in, ready to answer, “There’s no reason why more than one crystal cannot bond to a single Jedi, although it is uncommon. You’ll, of course, have noticed that there are Jedi on Tython who use two lightsabers and of course they have two crystals in their possession. The truth is that it’s not the same for all of them. Generally, for a Jedi to have more than one crystal one of three scenarios occur: two separate crystals bond to the Jedi, either both during their Gathering or at different points in their life or a single, larger, crystal bonds to them during their gathering and it later splits in two or they only bond with one of their crystals with the other one being in a support weapon they aren’t bonded with.”

“I see, thank you, Master.”

The Jedi Master nodded to acknowledge the thanks before the Padawan continued speaking again, “Now, we wait until sunrise, then the sunlight will be focused through the big kyber crystal above us and will have enough energy to melt that wall in front of us. In a way, this entire room is like the part of the lightsaber that houses the kyber crystal. You’ll need to be fast though, the waterfall will freeze quickly after you go in, if you’re too slow you’ll be trapped inside until it melts again and each day here is almost three standard days so you’ll be here for a while.”

“That’s why Squall clan’s the best, we’re the fastest!” shouted a Nautolan initiate off to Tarys’s right.

“Yeah, right! Dragon’s the best,” Tarys retorted, it was fact, after all.

“No, Heliost!”

“Bear!”

From there the situation devolved into a heated “discussion” over whose clan was the best, thankfully Dragon clan had two representatives here, Ishra, of course, was unafraid to voice her opinion. They continued and then began exchanging stories and all became friendly, if not friends by the end of it. The initiates only stopped talking once one of them noticed that the ice wall had begun melting, it was strange. Something that big didn’t look like it should be able to melt, yet there it was, all from sunlight. Kyber crystals were special.

“Off you go, young ones,” Master Dentiri said.

And off they went. One after another each initiate ventured into the cold crystal caves, away from the reprieve that the fire provided and into the unknown. Within seconds he lost sight of everyone else, he felt alone. He couldn’t feel anyone else’s presence, none of the other initiates not even Master Liam.

Tarys took a few tentative steps into the darkness then he felt a warmth far away, far in front of him, could that be the crystal calling to him. He kept walking toward it, making sure to feel the ground in front of him ahead of every step he took, he couldn’t be sure if the ground wasn’t slippery and he wouldn’t want a repeat of the time he fell in front of the rest of the class during a Force sensing lesson.

Eventually, he saw a faint light, glimmering in the near distance, could that be his kyber crystal? Quickly. Padawan Kiva said to be fast, the ice wall could freeze at any moment and three days in this cold did not sound fun. He became a bit more daring in his steps, not doubting the ground as much and tried to walk as normally as he could toward the light. The closer he got the more he realised the light wasn’t his crystal as he first thought, it was an exit. Crossing it he arrived into some sort of open area, the ceiling disappeared and he could see the clear blue sky above him and the path he was on turned into a ring of ice that connected to a circle in the centre where someone was standing. Master Satele?

It was her, Tarys was sure of it. What was Master Satele doing on Ilum? Was this part of the test Padawan Kiva mentioned? 

“Master Satele?” asked Tarys, unsure of what was going on.

“You could have been so much more.”

“Master?” He was unsure of what was going on.

“Tarys Valerys, I had such high hopes for you.” Master Satele didn’t look at him, she just looked down, like she was meditating. “I spent all that time with you, helping you and for what? You have nothing to show for it, you are nothing to show for it.”

“I-I I’m sorry master,” Tarys struggled to get the words out, did Master Satele really feel that way? Was he that much of a disappointment?

“Apologies won’t change the fact that you are wasted potential initiate. Sadly, that is all you ever will be.”

She never referred to him by his rank, she always called him by his name, what was happening?

Then someone else appeared from behind her and stood next to the Jedi Master, it was a familiar face: Ishra.

“Take Ishra here, she’s so much more skilled than you and dedicated to the Jedi code at that. I should’ve invested my time in her instead.” This time Master Satele raised her gaze to meet Tarys’s eyes, they were full of contempt. He was a disappointment to her.

Ishra then unhooked what looked like the hilt of a lightsaber from her belt, it wasn’t her usual training saber, Tarys knew that one well. Had she already built a lightsaber? They hadn’t even made it off Ilum yet though. She pressed a button and a vibrant green blade materialised, different from the blue that the initiates usually used. This was her lightsaber, she’d beaten him, again.

“You told me you wanted to surpass me one day, you promised you’d show me what a great Jedi you’d become.” Master Satele’s eyes never left his, “How wrong I was to believe you.”

She’d always been so kind to him, was he such a letdown that he caused her so much disappointment? Did he fail that badly?

_“Work hard and stay true to what you’ve told me and you’ll be one of the greatest Jedi of your generation Tarys. I believe in you, don’t let me down.”_

That was what she had told him. Those were the words Tarys had betrayed. That was why Master Satele was so disappointed in him.

“You may as well give up now Initiate. I’ll simply take Ishra as my Padawan instead of you and train her into a far better Jedi than you ever could be.”

Ishra, her apprentice instead of him? The thought made him jealous, angry even. Anger leads to hate, and hate leads to the dark side. Then let it be determination. He’d never thought about who his master would be, of course, the initiates would ask and he would always say he just wanted a good teacher, that wasn’t true. He wanted to be the Padawan of Master Satele Shan, he wanted to learn from her and show her what he was made of. He’d work harder, he’d become the great Jedi she said he could become, he would not let her down.

He was Tarys Valerys, Jedi Initiate of the Dragon clan and Dragons didn’t back down unless they willed it.

“No.”

“No what, initiate?”

“You’re won’t take Ishra as your Padawan, you’ll take me. You’ll take me and I’ll show you that you didn’t waste your time on me, Master, you weren’t wrong to believe me. I _will_ follow through on my promise to you. Jedi don’t break promises.”

Without a word, Master Satele stood and walked towards him, never breaking eye contact, this time Tarys looked back, truly looked back, unafraid of her judgment, and saw that this wasn’t the same Master Satele he knew, there was no kindness in those eyes. Just emptiness. She approached him until she stood over him and clasped his hands. Finally, warmth.

He blinked and when he opened his eyes, it was all gone, the ceiling was back, the circle of ice was gone and he was back in the crystal caves but this time his hands held something. It felt warm. He opened his hand and saw that he was holding a kyber crystal. _His_ kyber crystal, it was bigger than he’d thought it would be and light blue, it felt just right. As he held it in his hand, absorbing the fact he’d just gotten his own kyber crystal it got warmer and warmer and warmer and hotter and hotter until crack. 

A fissure appeared at the bottom of the crystal and kept growing until it reached the other end and then it just split. The crystal split into two, he’d think something went wrong if it didn’t feel so right. He had two crystals, well, not really, Tarys knew that they were part of one whole. Whatever lightsabers he’d make with these crystals wouldn’t be two different and separate objects, they’d be two parts of one entity.

The warmth of the crystals in his palm instilled confidence in him and he walked out of the cave. He retraced his steps, following the light on the other side of the wall but he saw that the main chamber was blurred, he couldn’t see clearly, like it was on the other side of a wall of ice, for example. He was too late. The waterfall had already frozen over, just how long was he in the caves for? 

Thankfully for once, he wasn’t alone in being late and Ishra joined him,

“Well this is annoying,” Tarys said to her.

“Yeah… Did you at least get your crystal too?”

“I did, I’m guessing you did too? What colour is it?”

“Green, yours?”

“Blue but wait, yours is green? So was that you in my trial thing?” It had to have been right? In his meeting with Master Satele, Ishra had a green lightsaber. He thought it was a vision but if it was her then maybe it wasn’t?

“What? What are you talking about?” It wasn’t her then. Tarys kicked himself when he realised, of course, kyber crystals are attuned to the Force, it made sense that in a Force vision her lightsaber would match her actual kyber crystal.

“Nevermind, I’ll tell you later, but first we need to figure out how to get out, I’m not feeling like spending three days here.”

“I agree, it’s just ice, right? No matter how thick it is we can break it.” Ishra adopted her trademark pensive look, he could practically see the cogs turning in her head.

“If the two of us work together we should be able to Force Push it right? Between us, we can probably break it,” Tarys offered.

“I was thinking the same thing, let’s try it,” She walked forward towards the ice and tapped a point in the middle of where they were standing, “Let’s both aim for this spot.”

They put their new crystals in the pockets in their coats, it would be stupid to lose them at this stage.

Tarys took the lead and centred himself. He felt it would be even easier than normal here, he felt his connection to the Force even more strongly than usual, it was truly all around him.

“Ishra, on three.”

“One… two… three!”

The two initiates extended their hands at the same time towards the target Ishra had pointed out and a powerful… well, force extended from them and crashed against the ice with a faint blue hue to it. They heard the ice crack.

“Guess it wasn’t enough,” Tarys said, “again?”

“Yeah, I think it’s working though.”

“One… two… three!”

And again the Force responded to their call and attacked the ice once more, this time shattering it into several large chunks of ice that fell to the floor to reveal the rest of the group, Tarys and Ishra were the last ones out of everyone, at least they didn’t leave without them.

“About time! We’ve been waiting for hours for you two!” Shouted one of the other initiates.

If they had to wait three standard days until they could get out why wouldn’t the group not have left without them and come to pick them up later when the wall melted?

Master Dentiri then approached him and Ishra, hopefully, he had an answer,

“I’m impressed, initiates, I’d have thought you would call for me or Padawan Cedrest for help, instead you broke through the ice all on your own. I hope you were successful?” Both of them nodded in the affirmative, “Good, I’m glad to hear it, as I explained to the others, it didn’t matter if the waterfall froze over, I could’ve broken it easily, telling you to be quick was more so you understood the importance and urgency of the ritual.”

And there was his answer, it was just a ruse. He was glad to know the Jedi wouldn’t leave them behind in the cold. At least he understood now what Master Liam meant when he said the Gathering would probably be the hardest thing they’d done so far, it was. He hoped that the Force hadn’t somehow shown him Master Satele’s feelings about him because if that image of her was telling the truth then he had all that much more work to do to prove her wrong. He’d have to talk to her when they were back on Tython.

Sweet, not freezing Tython, he wanted to be back at the Temple as soon as possible, usually he relished the chance to get out but when “out” meant Ilum, he was good. On the journey back to Tython all the initiates shared stories of what happened in the cave and it appeared that each of them had a completely different experience, it was like the caves themselves knew each initiate inside out and preyed on their deepest insecurities, pretty low if you asked him.

This time Master Liam let Padawan Kiva pilot the ship while he came and spoke to all the initiates,

“You all did very well young ones, you all successfully bonded with crystals and that doesn’t happen every time, sometimes the challenges the Force presents us can be overwhelming and some initiates fail to claim a crystal the first time around so you should be proud of yourselves. Unbeknownst to you, however, you eight just completed part of your second Initiate trial. You’ll, of course, remember being tested on the Jedi Code and as expected you all performed well and were selected for this Gathering. You will not, however, be building lightsabers yet as that is reserved for when you are ready to become Padawans.

“You will undertake the third and final Initiate trial, it will be different for each of you but it will be a taste of the life of a Jedi and you will be measured on how you can cope. You can be expected to carry out a simple mission, something like helping someone in need. If and when you complete your trials, you will be able to show potential masters your skills with a lightsaber in the Apprentice Tournament, it is scheduled for next month so be ready.”

So that was it, he was already two-thirds of the way done with the Trials and he’d only just found out, par for the course for Jedi he supposed. What would his third trial be though?

Either way, he was ready to become a Padawan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! As before, please give any criticism you have towards the chapter, how the writing itself can improve, how I might've better showed off some of the characters and their personalities, anything at all - please let me know! Hopefully I did an okay job at portraying the mind of a twelve year old haha.
> 
> Chapter 2 will be up next Saturday!


	3. The Final Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Chapter 2 on Saturday as promised! Let's hope I can make timely posts a theme.

### Chapter 2: The Final Trial

Jedi Master Orgus Din was the one issuing Tarys with his final Trial, one of the Heroes of Karideph, the Plain Jedi, he’d read all about his adventures and his Trial was going to be given by him. 'Excitement' wasn’t the word.

“Initiate I will be entrusting you with a very important mission, I know you’re expecting a simple test but this is of crucial importance. You will be investigating the disappearance of a Padawan.”

What?

“Padawan Callef went missing a few weeks ago but we have reason to believe that he is still alive. Your task is to learn what happened to him and try to bring him back, however, if you can’t, finding out why he left will be enough to deem your Trial complete. You will be given access to his room for your investigation, I suggest you start there.” The Jedi Master finished with a grave seriousness in his voice that almost scared Tarys. What had happened to him? Did he know and just wasn’t telling Tarys?

Well, he had his mission, he was going to do his utmost to find this missing Padawan and bring him back to the Temple. Why would anyone leave? It made no sense to him.

He wasn’t going to ignore Master Orgus’s suggestion so he made his way to Padawan Callef’s room using the directions another Padawan gave him, and even that Padawan had a sombre look on their face. If he was alive why was everyone who knew about him so glum?

Once he reached his room the thing that stood out to Tarys was that nothing stood out. He’d half expected some sort of murder scene or something, but there was no such luck. It looked like any normal room in the Temple dormitories, bed on one side, desk on another and was generally very tidy with ample room to meditate in the centre.

Maybe the Padawan kept a journal? He’d be really lucky if he did, it would make it a lot easier to figure out why he left if he just wrote it down in a book. Trying to find this hypothetical journal, Tarys searched the entire room: under the bed, in the desk, the cabinet, any other containers. Every inch of the room was searched and nothing. No journals, nothing out of the ordinary.

It looked like he was stuck.

What could he do? After several minutes of contemplation, Tarys realised he could ask people who knew him; most of the Padawans had the same time slot in the refectory so they would probably know each other or know who knew Padawan Callef so he decided to wait until it was the Padawan’s lunch and requested access to the refectory. He was denied, at least until the Jedi was able to confirm that he only wanted access to help with his Initiate Trial, then he was finally allowed in.

Tarys searched for Padawan Kiva. A familiar face would help more than a stranger. He felt weird being the refectory when it was full of Padawans. Not a single other Initiate was to be seen anywhere and he could tell that the Padawans were giving him strange looks as he was walking around looking for Kiva. At long last he found her eating and chatting with who he assumed were her friends.

“Padawan Kiva, can I talk to you?” Tarys tried his best not to be too bothersome.

“Sure. Tarys, right? Congratulations on finishing your Gathering. What can I do?”

Tarys told her about the situation with Padawan Callef and even Kiva’s face soured at the mention of the name.

“Honestly I don’t know, none of us does. He seemed fine, quiet and a little strange maybe but that was normal for him so he didn’t change or anything when he disappeared. We just stopped seeing him around out of nowhere. I’m sorry, I wish I could help more. May the Force be with you.”

At least she tried to help. So Padawan Callef didn’t act weird ahead of his disappearance so it was unlikely anyone would know anything. And he thought he was so smart for thinking of asking people who knew him.

Slightly deflated, but undefeated, Tarys went back to Callef’s room in the hope that he would have some sort of epiphany if he went back there. He was really glad that Master Orgus allowed him to be excused from his lessons so he could focus on completing his trial. Three days was all he had. Any longer and he would have to fit the investigation around the gruelling timetable of an Initiate.

This time he was stuck, no other ideas revealed themselves to Tarys and he couldn’t think of anything else to do. If Callef left on purpose, he’d left no trace as to why. He decided he’d pick up the investigation again the following day and decided to go back to the Initiate wing of the Temple to train for the evening and then meditate. Hopefully, the Force would give him an answer.

This time, Tarys decided to split his time more evenly, even if he wanted to spend all his time training Jar’Kai he knew he needed to spend time practising the normal lightsaber forms if he had any hope of doing well in the tournament.

That lasted for about half an hour.

The draw of the second saber was just too great for him; he felt so much more confident when he had a saber in each hand, especially since he knew he had his two crystals there in his room, waiting to be put into lightsabers so he could become a Jedi in truth. Eventually, he was joined by Ishra who also had three days away from lessons for her Trial. He asked her how hers was going, but not before making sure to put away the second saber. Jar’Kai was his ace and he needed it to be a secret.

“It’s weird. It’s frustrating. It’s interesting. I honestly don’t know if I like it.” She gave a resigned sigh before she continued, “I’m meant to be helping out Jedi over in Kaleth, with excavating the old ruins and stuff and it’s so cool, there’s so much knowledge from thousands of years ago that we’re only now rediscovering and I wanna learn so much but the Masters I’m with just won’t let me. I’m just an errand girl to them.”

Tarys couldn’t help but give a somewhat sympathetic somewhat teasing laugh when he heard about her woes and then told her of his own experience with his trial and how confused he was about what to do.

“That’s tough. They told an initiate to find a missing Padawan? Sounds cruel to me. I’m sure Master Orgus knows what he’s doing though, he wouldn’t have given you the mission if he didn’t believe you could do it.” Ishra once again donned her “deep-in-thought” expression and considered something before speaking again, “I can’t remember it right now but I’m sure I read something about there being a Force power that could help with this sort of thing, like finding out what happened in the past. Damn, I really can’t remember, sorry.”

“A Force power? Wait, you’re right! You’re a genius Ishra thank you so much!”

He knew what to do now, he quickly put his remaining saber away and ran back to Callef’s room.

What was the last thing he would’ve used?

His bag, of course. He was surprised it was still here, surely the Padawan would have taken it with him. Either way, he grabbed it and went back to the Initiate training yard where Ishra was still training, never one to take breaks.

“Psychometry. You were thinking of psychometry right? Some force-sensitives can feel an echo in the Force just by touching an object. Do you know anyone who can use it?” Finally, Tarys was getting somewhere, his excitement translated into his voice.

“Yeah you’re right, that’s the one. I’m pretty sure Master Quilb did a demonstration in Force class a while ago, he’s probably your best bet.”

He thanked her and then set off looking for the Cathar Jedi Master, he was finally going to get to the bottom of this. Thankfully the Master wasn’t hard to find, he was speaking with another Master near the front of the temple. Padawan Callef’s bag in hand, Tarys approached him,

“Master Quilb? I’m Tarys and I need your help for my Initiate Trial, could have a bit of your time please?”

The Cathar turned to him before bidding the other master goodbye and talking to him, “Of course, what can I do for you?”

“Well, I heard you can use psychometry and I was hoping you could use on this bag, it belongs to a missing Padawan and I need to find him for my Trial,” he said, holding the bag out to the master.

“I see… I have to tell you, I can’t use it whenever I please, the Force usually guides me to an object and then shows me the echoes associated with it. I would be happy to try, however,” the master replied, taking the Padawan’s bag from Tarys and closing his eyes.

A moment passed, then another and another, Tarys began to wonder if it was working at all but then the Jedi Master suddenly began stumbling and lost his footing.

“Master!” Tarys tried to give Master Quilb support before he fell.

In that instant where he touched the senior Jedi a rush of emotions attacked him. Hate. Anger. A desire for revenge. It felt so cold, colder than Ilum ever could have been. He saw an image of what looked like a Jedi Temple burning, Jedi Masters, Knights, Padawans and even Initiates lay dead at his feet. He could hear screaming as Jedi were killed and cut down around him and the humming and buzzing of lightsabers, red, blue and green as they clashed over control of the Temple.

He couldn’t breathe, he tried to but he just couldn’t, his lungs felt like they were shut. So much death and pain around him. Tarys remembered this.

Coruscant.

He felt himself falling, it didn’t matter, so many of his friends and teachers dead, all cut down by them. He felt the cold in his fingertips, blood flowing away from the edges of his body, retreating from his limbs. He tried to open his eyes and saw a spotted cat-like face, orange slitted eyes. Whose? He was so tired, keeping his eyes closed was easier.

Tarys forced his eyes open, he was in the medbay, what happened? Sitting next to him were Masters Orgus and Quilb, both with solemn looks on their faces.

Master Orgus was the first to speak, “Tarys, how do you feel?”

“Cold, tired, I don’t know, weird, I guess,” was the best he could offer.

“Good, at least it wasn’t worse,” responded Master Quilb, “Initiate, what do you remember?”

It was foggy, but Tarys tried his best to recount the images he saw and more importantly what he felt seeing them. They weren’t his memories, he was never in the thick of it, he and the younger Initiates were evacuated early on into the attack. So whose memories could he have seen?

“You saw what I saw, Padawan Callef’s memories, at least the ones he thought about most prominently, those would be the ones that the Force would show. The Force showed you too when you touched me. You brushed the dark side,” Master Quilb said with all the seriousness in the world.

“Does that mean that-”

“Yes. It’s most likely that Padawan Callef has fallen to the dark side,” Master Orgus preempted Tarys’s question, not even allowing him to say the words. “Consider your Trial complete Tarys. I have to commend your ingenuity in asking Master Quilb to use his psychometry… even if the result was a terrible one.”

“Indeed, this matter is far too sensitive for an Initiate so we’ll call the case closed, for now, the Temple doesn’t have the resources to hunt down a fallen Padawan so we’ll have to leave it be for now but you did well regardless. Rest and recover, I’ll make sure to tell your clan instructor of your performance,” Master Quilb finished.

“We suspected he leaned toward the dark but I could never have imagined that he’d fall. All that hate and anger in a teenager, it isn’t right,” reflected Master Orgus, “Anyhow, follow Master Quilb’s advice. I look forward to working with you in the future, Jedi Tarys,” Master Orgus threw a sincere smile at him.

Tarys couldn’t help but smile himself, Master Orgus just called him ‘Jedi Tarys’, maybe this Trial wasn’t so horrible after all. Then he thought about what he saw. That was the dark side. It was terrible but he could feel it, the Force was still there, it was strengthening those emotions, that anger, it fed on it and gave him strength in return. Even if it was only someone’s memory from long ago, it felt so real, like if he got angrier he’d get more power. The thought scared him, he knew anger and fear were wrong for a Jedi to feel - they led to the dark side - but thinking about the dark side led to that fear. It was a strange, cruel cycle.

He closed his eyes and breathed. Thankfully he was the only one in this room so there was no noise or distraction. Maybe some empty meditation would help. The Force is with me. He reminded himself of the presence of the Force, immersed himself in it, he was one with it, part of it. He tried to flow with the Force and let the Force flow through him and wash out those feelings, that cold.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

There is no passion, there is serenity.

The two tenets of the Code echoed in his mind until he felt nothing. Until the storm of emotion inside him weakened into a calm and serene sea. Then, a satisfied smile formed on his face. He had completed all three of his Initiate Trials, no matter how troubling the last one was. Now he could focus on training for the tournament in two weeks. And then, he was going to be a Padawan and he’d get to build his very own lightsabers. For the moment, however, he decided to obey the Jedi Masters and closed his eyes until he drifted off, casting aside any lingering fatigue he had.

* * *

_The First Day of the Jedi Temple Apprentice Tournament_

This was it, he’d been training almost non-stop since the end of his Trials for this, this was when Tarys would show to all the Knights and Master what he was made of. All thirty-two potential Padawan were gathered into the arena in the Temple. It was surprisingly big. A large circular duelling area was surrounded by stands and seats for people to sit on, there were going to be a lot of spectators.

No pressure.

It looked like other Initiates were allowed in too, he noticed his friend Jodal standing at the edge looking like some sort of proud father, the idiot. He was glad to have him there though, his support meant the world to Tarys.

In the past two weeks ever since the full roster of participants had been announced he’d try to talk to each person at least a little and in all honesty, they had him worried. These were the thirty-one best Initiates out of about four hundred who recently completed their Trials and were ready to advance to being Padawan. He was lucky to be among them. Of course, Ishra was there too, at this point the term “best Initiate” and the name “Ishra Datharr” were almost interchangeable. Thankfully, these were highly standardised one-on-one duels with a single training saber, so there was only so much variation they could have prepared for.

He had made sure to spend ample time in the library, learning the ins and outs of each of the seven forms and even then he highly doubted anyone their age would have even the faintest idea of how to use the seventh, Juyo. It was said to require a level of focus that was present in only skilled Jedi Masters so for Initiates to attempt it… no, that was a possibility Tarys could afford to discount.

As Initiates, they’d all been taught Form I (Shii-Cho) extensively and were recommended to use it since it was the least taxing to follow but there was no doubt in his mind that every one of the participants in this tournament had done something to set themselves out, unfortunately for Tarys the thing he did was useless unless he was able to secure an additional saber from somewhere and even then, that wasn’t allowed by the rules of the match. However, he had been training a fair bit in the use of Form IV to help with his Jar’Kai so hopefully, that would give him enough of an edge.

“Initiates, today will be the first day of the Jedi Temple Apprentice Tournament. The rules are as follows…” The Jedi Master went on to explain rules that Tarys had read and reread a dozen times and instead, he continued going over different stances and techniques in his mind and he played out different scenarios and how he would react to different attacks.

The first round was between a Twi’lek Initiate and a Miraluka, Zor Nogu and Vatian Corrin if Tarys’s memory served correctly. As he expected, they both adopted the opening Shii-Cho stance and began circling each other, each sizing the other up. The slowly advanced towards each other until Zor lifted his blue training saber over his head in an apparent Form IV attack but then jerked it to his left as a feint. However, Vatian seemed to anticipate the attack, ignoring the false assault completely and ducking to his right until he was directly under the Twi’lek’s blade. Before his opponent could react, he slashed at Zor’s leg causing the first burn of the match.

That was quick. Vatian was probably one to watch out for, anyone else would have been taken by the feint, it probably helped that as a Miraluka he was proficient in Force Sight and could probably sense what his opponent was about to do better than any of the others could. The remainder of the match was surprisingly even, Tarys thought that after the early lead Vatian would claim victory quickly but Zor put up quite the fight, only narrowly losing after inflicting two burns on his enemy.

_Three burns and I’m out._

Three is all it took. In reality, one is often all it took, so three was quite merciful on the part of the Order. Within ten minutes of cautiously avoiding each other, thirty-two became thirty-one. And so it would continue until thirty-one became eight and then, the free-for-all.

The fifth match was Ishra’s and her opponent was oddly enough one of their group mates from the Gathering, the one from Bear. He was cool, at least after Tarys got to know him a bit once they all stopped arguing over whose clan was the best. This match was much faster than the rest, but even Tarys was surprised just how much Ishra seemed to outclass her opponent. Ariluc Farrus was Arkanian, it was clear from his pure white eyes and hair, not to mention the fact he had four fingers.

But this match was really strange, it almost looked like Ishra was toying with Ariluc, all her movements were so confident and fluid, he hadn’t seen anything like it from her before and they’d sparred often enough for him to know her inside out, or so he thought. And at one point it looked like Ariluc lost the will to fight like he’d given up. Tarys didn’t think he was that sort of guy. Ishra struck her three burns and walked away unscathed.

The twelfth match was the one where Tarys was finally called to the duelling area to fight. From the floor of the arena Tarys could finally see everyone in the stands, he took a quick scan around and found Jodal and gave him a quick wave, then the seat where Ishra had settled after her victory. Then, he found the one he was looking for. Master Satele Shan sat at one of the highest tiers of the bleachers and gazed down at the arena, he gave her a resolute nod and he knew she saw it. He wanted her to watch him carefully.

His opponent was a Togruta girl, Nelda Taas; he didn’t know much about her, she was one of the ones he didn’t get to speak to and had only just found out her name. They both drew their sabers and ignited them, each revealing a blue hue that lit their face. Nelda adopted a different stance from most of the ones he’d seen so far, Form V, Djem So specifically. No one used that yet, it had mostly been a mix of Forms I and II so far no one else properly used Form IV yet.

Tarys spun his blade around at his side and adopted a simple Form I opening stance, he’d need the element of surprise in this fight.

“Theatrics like spinning your saber around won’t help you Tarys,” Nelda mocked playfully.

“Come on, who doesn’t love theatrics at the start of a fight?” He might as well play along, if she underestimated him, all the better. Also, he fully believed in fun flourishes when he could pull them off, which wasn’t often, sadly.

“Most Jedi,” she laughed.

“That’s fair.”

Then it began, the two circled each other and fixed a gaze on the other’s eyes, trying to remain aware of where their opponent’s saber was at all times. All the other duels had begun like this, it was up to Tarys to make sure he ended up on the winning side of this one.

Form V was a defensive discipline so she was probably going to wait for Tarys to make the first attack and then use his energy against him. Thankfully this was already better than Ishra’s match, she’d already gotten one burn in by this time.

Time to test the waters.

Making sure to preserve the Form I stance to a precise level, he started making cautioned strikes at the Togruta who, true to form, parried and immediately countered taking Tarys almost by surprise more than once. Then the duel began in earnest, Tarys used the normal Form I katas he’d been taught to try and land a strike on her before he tried anything drastic and what followed was a series of parries by both of them until Nelda was able to burn Tarys’s thigh.

Thankfully her successful attack left her overconfident. Tarys held out his left hand and called the Force, _push_. In response, Nelda flew backwards and only caught her footing a second before she would’ve toppled. That gave Tarys enough of an opening to drop the false pretence and adopt Form IV, it was the best for him. After all, Tarys was fast enough to give a Squall a run for their money. He ran as fast as he could, aided by the Force and leapt over Nelda, well clear of her saber and landed behind her. By the time she turned around, it was too late, Tarys was able to tap the tip of his saber into her side, evening the score.

His form, Ataru, was the perfect match for Djem So, where she was poised to defend, Tarys began attacking relentlessly, only stopping to take a breath, Nelda was able to block and parry most of his attacks however and was able to counterattack in return, something Tarys didn’t appreciate. He broke off for a few seconds to catch his breath and it returned to the stalemate it started with.

His thoughts were interrupted when his body started moving on its own towards his opponent, she was pulling him. Thankfully he’d put a good bit of distance between them, letting him think about what to do. If he could land even one foot on the ground he could try to jump out of her path, going flying to the wall seemed like a better alternative than into a lightsaber after all.

Tarys closed his eyes and focused on the Force, of course, he could feel it pushing him toward Nelda but he tried to push himself downwards too, just enough to put a foot on the ground properly. He strained to do so, Nelda was skilled in using the Force, but he managed to enact his plan. In the split second he had his foot down, he concentrated the Force the sole of his shoe and jumped out of the way and into a wall like he thought he would. That was the trade-off of a lopsided jump - looking like a fool. He threw a glance towards the bleachers and to his relief found that only some of the younger Initiates were snickering at his impact, with everyone else (and most importantly, Master Satele) seeming to understand the necessity of what he just did.

That look around bought Nelda a precious second however, and she moved to attack and Tarys barely had the time block her assault. Maybe some light theatrics would distract her, the emphasis would have to be on light because this was as much of a gamble as anything and if it failed then that was it for him.

After pushing her away following her attack he raised his saber as far above his head as he could and swung down, almost fully committing to the attack and as he expected Nelda did the only thing she did the whole match, moved to block. Perfect. Just before the lightsaber made contact Tarys turned it off. He would be lying if he said Nelda’s stunned look wasn’t satisfying.

Once the hilt of his blade passed her saber Tarys turned his own on again and landed a hit on the Togruta’s shoulder, making the score two to one in Tarys’s favour. The move drew murmurs from the crowd as well for some reason, surely this wasn’t the first time someone did this, it was obvious in hindsight how helpful turning off a saber mid-battle was.

Then he felt another burn on his back. What the? Tarys left himself open and Nelda took the opportunity to simply lower her saber down slightly to stroke his back. All the Initiates had been burned by training sabers enough that it didn’t hurt that much anymore, it didn’t hurt that much to begin with, seeing as the burns weren’t even severe enough to scar.

Tarys kicked her away as quickly as he could to build some distance. This was dangerous now, they were both two burns on the other, whoever got the next hit won.

So far Nelda had stuck to Form V and had barely been on the offence until she just dropped that stance and adopted Form II, she was desperate, just as he was. Tarys focused on blocking her attacks, he needed to formulate a plan before doing anything. He let one hand go of the saber and just blocked her attacks, walking backwards and leading the two of them in a circle around the arena. He needed to do something, and fast. Then, Tarys realised it: he didn’t need to do anything. He had the upper hand. He was used to making endless assaults and the physical strain of Ataru-style barrages but she was a Djem So practitioner, this was outside her comfort zone. He could turn this into a war of attrition - one he’d win.

He kept carefully blocking her every attack, never daring to overstep his bounds by trying to counterattack, he simply waited until she broke away to catch her breath like he did at the start of the match. He was tired as well so he only really had the one chance to make this work. If he could get behind her then this would be over. Running towards her he called the Force to allow him to sidestep around her fast enough so she couldn’t react and it complied, planting his right foot down and pivoting around it, Tarys was able to spin around his opponent and land the final strike on her back, finally winning their duel.

“And some theatrics at the end of the fight too, why not.”

“Don’t gloat, it doesn’t suit a Jedi. You won though, so well done, I guess,” Nelda rolled her eyes.

That he did and she gave him a good fight for it too. He held out his had to shake hers and hoped that the next round wouldn’t be held today as well. He was tired enough as it was.

His prayers came true when it was announced after the sixteenth and final match that the second round would be held three days from now so that the participants could recover and perform at their best, they were told that the free for all round would be held another three days after that, again to allow time for recovery.

No one was seriously injured; it was mainly just a case of getting rest after exerting themselves so hard and the burns would heal quickly after a day in the medbay.

He wanted to talk to Ishra, how the hell was she so good? But that question would have to wait because for the moment he was going to go straight to bed, he’d earned it. Before his dreams of sleep could be realised Jodal caught him and walked with him to their dorms before he had to go to his evening meditation session.

“You did great Tarys, I can’t believe you just turned your saber off like that though! It was genius,” Jodal beamed at him, his grin always lifted Tarys’s spirits.

“I got hit right after though,” Tarys laughed.

“Yeah, but the idea was gold.”

“I’m glad you think so, you’ll probably be in my position next year, right?” Tarys wondered when his friend was going to go for Padawan.

“Here’s hoping, I haven’t done my Gathering yet so I’ve still got a bit of time. Hopefully, I’ll do alright in next year’s tournament and get myself a master.”

“You’ll do great, just don’t do what I did and try dumb complicated moves and then get hit,” he advised.

“Got it, I’ll just do smart complicated moves and not get hit,” Jodal pretended to jot something down on an imaginary notepad.

The two kept chatting until they got to the door to Tarys’s dorm and they parted ways. He put his training saber down and just laid on the bed, he’d have to meditate soon too so there was no use in trying to sleep.

* * *

_The Day of the Free-for-all round_

Tarys performed well in his second duel, he won much more easily than against Nelda since his opponent was needlessly reckless and at one point even tried to turn his lightsaber off like Tarys himself did. In that regard, the student did not become the master, not that Tarys was much of a master to begin with.

This time they weren’t in the arena, they were outside in the sun, still on a roughly circular stage but this time there weren’t as many bleachers set up, so more people from across the Temple would be able to see what was going on without being obstructed by the large structures. Tarys remembered watching the previous few tournaments, trying and failing to sneak a peek during meditation and then getting scolded.

This time the battlemaster himself, Master Jun Seros announced the event:

“Initiates, the rules are the same as the previous rounds, if you are burned three times during this match, no matter who the burns are from, then you are out and should exit the stage as soon as you can as not to impede your fellows.”

Tarys had been training another ace in the hole and did almost nothing but that over the past six days while he was excused from his lessons. About a year prior, Tarys discovered he could “blink”, that was what he called his instant short-range teleportation. No one knew about it but once when he was training he accidentally teleported behind a dummy after what was a productive meditation session. He found that he could reliably blink anywhere within about four feet of him—anything beyond that and it just didn’t work.

He read about it in the library after the fact and teleportation itself was an ability open to anyone who had the patience to train it but for it to be latent in a youngling seemed like it was very uncommon. Since then he’d only told Master Satele who encouraged him to keep training it, and of course, not to let it disrupt his regular studies.

He hoped that his efforts in keeping his ability secret would pay off today. Jedi weren’t meant to deceive but withholding an ability from an opponent for an advantage was just good sense right?

The Initiate steeled himself for combat. Then he heard the word.

"Begin!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading!
> 
> As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. What did you like? What could've been better? As you can see this was when I started writing the first (of many) fight scenes so your thoughts on them would be super helpful! Did you like them?
> 
> Chapter 3 will be up next Saturday! Just to make the schedule a bit clearer, I'll be trying to post anywhere between 10-11pm GMT on Saturday evenings, so I believe that would translate to around 5-6pm on the American East Coast, hopefully I saved you a google haha.


	4. Competition

### Chapter 3: Competition

This time there was none of the grace of the duels. This time it was a bloodbath. Each and every Initiate threw themselves at whoever was closest to them, Tarys was no exception in that regard. This was much more stressful, Tarys needed to lean into the Force to have any hope of survival. His own senses weren’t good enough to dodge and block attacks from seven others.

What baffled him was that Ishra once again didn’t seem to have any trouble fighting against this many opponents. She was gracefully weaving between, almost like this was some sort of dance, and it wasn’t long until she was the one responsible for the loss of two Initiates. Tarys noticed they left their sabers behind in their haste to leave the maelstrom of would-be Jedi fighting for their place with a master.

With the space occupied by two fewer people, Tarys found it much easier to navigate the circle as he did his best to start an offensive strike against the Zabrak Initiate he was currently fighting against. He’d seen him in the last match, he was a practitioner of Form III. that should make this easier for him since it wasn’t a great form when it came to pure lightsaber to lightsaber combat and sure enough, Tarys was soon able to land a hit on him. Then another. And then a third all while not being hit himself. His fight against Nelda taught him how to deal with Form V and Soresu was Form V’s less effective parent after all.

This left five in the circle.

Tarys was finally able to breathe without watching out for a rogue lightsaber blade that might hit him, even by mistake. He was doing surprisingly well, he hadn’t gotten hit yet and they were already three down. He quickly scanned his surroundings and found that there was an odd number of people in a fight. Someone would have to fight more than one opponent.

That person was Tarys.

Vatian, the Miraluka from the very first duel and Cilta Anil, a girl he learned was from Alderaan, both started coming at him. Tarys adopted a haphazard Djem So stance that he’d only practised a handful of times before. he needed to be defensive if he was going to win against two opponents. At this point, it was only the adrenaline that stopped Tarys from getting cut down, that and the Force’s help in strengthening his reflexes so he was still able to ably parry attacks from both of them.

It looked suspiciously like the two of them had teamed up ahead of time. He made sure to keep his distance at all times and made use of little Force pushes here and there to stop his opponents from getting too close. Tarys looked past them to see that Ishra was handily winning against her current adversary and oddly enough her opponent’s movements were sluggish. They’d stopped trying, just like her other matches. When she beat her opponent that would put her at three “takedowns” to Tarys’s one. That wasn’t acceptable. He had to be more aggressive.

He let one hand go of his saber, freeing the other to use the Force. Tarys started trying to lead the dance he had with his enemies, little by little. A slash down to his right leg and Vatian would quickly follow with a parry upwards. Some Ataru footwork would help him be less predictable. He spun around, all the while guiding Vatian and Cilta’s sabers at first away from him and then towards each other.

 _Jump_.

His timing was sloppy, it was getting hard to keep track of both his opponents and whatever intricate footwork he was trying at the same time, but it seemed to be good enough because once he landed he noticed a brand new burn on each of his opponents, courtesy of one another.

He wanted to take a look around, bask in the glory of what he thought was a great manoeuvre but he couldn't afford to, not when he had to hit them both twice more. For a brief moment, Tarys closed his eyes and focused on the Force. He tried to flow with it as best he could, using it to make him faster and more agile, granting him just enough of an edge to keep clear of the flurry of blue and green that threatened to kick him out of the tournament.

He could land a second hit on them if he separated them, but doing that was easier said than done. Tarys did the only thing he could do in that situation: pushed. He called the Force to him to push them both away, and then both of them slid backwards, trying to resist it. They moved back only a few feet - not the devastating effect Tarys had hoped for.

Within seconds both of them were safely planted on the ground, only momentarily inconvenienced by Tarys's attack. Then, Cilta let go of her saber. The green blade span around in a circle towards, way too fast for him to do anything and it got ever closer until he felt the hot sting of the blade against his chest.

The saber retreated and flew back to its owner who now wore a satisfied smile, knowing that she had evened the playing field between them. He knew he could win this quickly if he could use another saber but the two left in the arena were too far away for him to pull and closing the distance was out of the question with the other fights raging on over there.

Teleporting was probably unwise too. that would mean showing his cards before he absolutely had to, and as soon as he struck one of them he would be open to the other.

What could he do what they wouldn't expect?

The answer to that question was the only thing Tarys could do to win, what was it though? He was careful to keep his distance and his eyes trained on his opponents while he sorted through his thoughts. He couldn't lose now, not when he’d come this far. Not when he hadn't gone against Ishra.

He renewed his grip on his saber and ran towards Vatian and Cilta, then slid to the ground. Cilta's last attack meant that she had created enough space between her and Vatian that he could slide past them.

From there it was a question of agility and how quickly he could stand back up. Through the Force, He could feel the two turning around to react to his plan. Tarys needed every advantage he could get so he used it to push against the ground, hopefully giving him enough lift to let him stand up before the other two were able to ready themselves.

Tarys grasped his saber with both hands and slashed across with as much strength as he had. He felt the blade strike two distinct times, once against Varian's back, then Cilta's side. He had just enough of a window to make another and he was able to land the third and final burn on each of them just as they raised their sabers to block but it was too little, too late.

As the two left the arena Tarys saw that Ishra was waiting. Well, not waiting so much as… meditating? She must've beaten her opponent before he did. She could've helped instead of leaving him to fight two people on his own but instead she sat there.

Wait.

It made sense, she had said she had something special for the tournament. Tarys assumed it was a special form or something but no it really was special, like his teleportation in that regard.

Ishra finally stood up, he couldn't see any burns on her. had she really taken down three Initiates without getting hit once? Tarys was already at a disadvantage, he only had two hits left before he was out.

"You're like Bastila Shan, aren't you?" Tarys asked he had a hunch he knew what her secret was. "since when could you do it?"

"You make it sound like only _I_ can do it, it's not like I'm special or anything," she replied.

"Right, like Battle Meditation comes naturally to everyone," he retorted, "please don't make me lose the will to live or anything."

"We'll see."

He could feel it already though, a gnawing feeling in the back of his mind. He was so far outclassed it wasn't even funny. No, that's just her Battle Meditation talking. Had no one else realised that she had that ability? Or was it just that powerful that it didn't matter?

He wasn't going to pull any punches, this was the first time he and Ishra duelled properly, not for practice or for demonstration in class, but for victory.

Tarys held out his hand expectantly and connected to one of the sabers left on the ground. He could finally use it now that there was no one in the way. As soon he felt its metallic hilt in his hand he knew he was in his element.

Tarys pretended not to notice the mystified reactions of the people around them to the exchange they just had. He wasn't surprised. It wasn't every day you found out a Jedi Initiate was capable of Battle Meditation.

"Jar'Kai? And you accuse me of holding secrets, looks like you've got your own up your sleeve," his friend - and as of now, enemy - said, igniting her blade.

To that, Tarys activated his own offhand saber, it too glowed a blue to match the one in his right hand. He adopted an opening stance he'd been practising in his own time, the Academy didn't teach Jar'Kai after all.

What the Academy did teach them was Form VI, Niman which itself had its roots in using two sabers so it was surprisingly simple to carry over many of the same stances and katas from the Form.

Tarys lunged forward and slashed at Ishra with his right blade while pivoting his left so the blade was backwards in his hand. As he thought, Ishra easily deflected his first attack so Tarys span around about his left foot holding his left blade out to create a blue spiral.

It was as if Ishra knew what he was going to do before he did, she took a freakishly fast step back and Force pushed Tarys, interrupting his assault.

Tarys' favourite thing about Jar'Kai was simple; it allowed him to be relentless. It was fast, aggressive while not sacrificing defence by allowing the use of the second saber as a permanent guard.

Taking after his fighting style's philosophy, Tarys remained unrelenting and advanced again to initiate another assault. He guided Ishra's saber away with his main hand while stabbing at her with his left but once again she was somehow able to avoid it, strafing to the side at the last second.

Maybe he couldn't win?

He banished the thought from his mind. He had to try again. This time Tarys took a step back himself to gather his thoughts. He needed a plan. What did he know about her?

Ishra favoured Form VI, it was versatile enough to give her a good shot at winning any fight in his experience. Most importantly, however, she shared his preference for meticulously planning attacks before she did anything. That, coupled with her Battle Meditation, which seemed to boost her abilities all around made her very dangerous.

Tarys didn't have the time to keep thinking as Ishra closed in for an attack of her own, she held her saber with both hands and slashed upwards with so much speed Tarys only saw bright green light as he reflectively tried to block it with one of his sabers but he was too slow. He felt the hot sting of saber meeting flesh on his right arm.

One more hit and he was out.

Ishra was still untouched maybe he really didn't have a shot at this. He could hear the Force telling him he had no chance, not against her, she was just too good. She seemed to be able to perfectly read his every movement and react before he even got within three feet of her. It was no surprise she hadn't gotten hit once in the entire tournament.

Tarys just wanted to get away. he walked backwards, creating distance between the two of them. He looked at her then looked around, by now there were probably over four hundred Jedi watching the standoff. He looked for Master Satele, he hoped she wouldn't be too disappointed in him. It looked like he was going to lose after all. It was difficult to find her in such a large crowd but sure enough, she was still there, her eyes fixed on the fight. Master Satele looked at him and simply nodded. What was she trying to say? Did she think he had a chance?

It was strange for him to think that a duel between two Initiates was such a spectacle even though he had been in the exact same boat as them the year before. He remembered being glued to the last fight in the previous tournament, it always boiled down to a duel between two Initiates. The best two Initiates.

It dawned on Tarys that this year it was him, he was one of those two Initiates, he and Ishra were the best of their age. He could beat her. They were both from Dragon Clan, they were meant to be tenacious, they were only meant to give up when they willed it, not when their enemy seemed too hard to beat.

And Tarys still had one last trick up his sleeve.

He hadn't trained his blink enough to say he was comfortable with it, but it would have to do. His plan was simple; he would run straight at her. Blinking behind her would surprise her enough to get a hit in, maybe even two if the Force was really with him.

He turned off both his sabers and ran at Ishra, to the bystanders he must've seemed insane. In fact, it looked like Ishra thought he was insane too, judging by how wide her eyes went when he started running.

Just as he was about an inch from her saber he focused on a spot just behind her, calling the Force to carry him there, imagining himself there already and what he would see when he arrived. He envisioned seeing Ishra's back and the bulk of the temple in front of her.

Tarys blinked. And he was there.

He had his arms raised above his head and swung down as he pressed the ignition button on each of his sabers. He knew he was that much closer to victory when he saw two charred lines form on her robes as she winced from the contact.

They were finally even. Ishra lurched forward before turning to address him. 

"How the hell did you get there?" A look of outrage and bewilderment adorned her face.

"Whoever said I only had _one_ secret?"

Ishra extended her hand out and Tarys felt himself getting dragged away, but there was just so much power behind her push he couldn't resist it. He'd try blinking but as it stood he could only teleport about six feet and he was already further away from her than that. It didn’t matter though, he had her flustered and hopefully, questioning her odds of winning. That alone should take away the main advantage of Battle Meditation.

Tarys didn’t resist the push any more than he had to, just waiting to land his feet on the ground before he could act. Ishra adapted her stance, her new form being clearly less rigid than she had it before, probably in a hope to be able to block an attack from him from any angle. He wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating her though, it could still go either way, if Ishra so much as touched him with her saber then he would lose.

Tarys walked toward his opponent, slowly at first, then gradually increased his pace. He couldn’t take the same approach as before so he thought he would do something different. Different and difficult. Tarys threw his sabers into the air in Ishra’s direction and waited until they were just above her. By then, he’d closed enough distance to blink to his sabers. She didn’t know Tarys could teleport in the air and hopefully she hadn’t guessed that he could.

Igniting each blade, Tarys realised Ishra was still ready for his attack. Smart of her, she hadn’t discounted the possibility that he could teleport into the air, but no matter how prepared she was she could never block an attack if he teleported directly behind her. He was just too fast.

So he did just that and teleported right to the ground, knocking her off balance by sweeping his foot across the floor, causing her to fall. Tarys tried to swat her saber away from him but Ishra took the opportunity to push him away from her, undoing any hopes he had of ending it there. She was as desperate as he was and it showed in the strength of her Force push, which put almost half the arena between them. He was quickly running out of options. How did she know exactly what to do?

They both slowly inched towards one another and Tarys tried to take the time to think about what he could do. He came up empty. He had no more aces, no more tricks, no more secrets. All that was left to do was try his best. He could still win this. Within moments they faced each other again.

They didn’t move.

Tarys could only hear his own breathing and the humming of the sabers as the world stood still, waiting for whoever made the first move. He knew it, she knew it, everyone knew it: the match would be decided in the next minute.

Tarys teleported behind her and was met with Ishra lunging forward to avoid him. She turned to begin her own attack, fluid, confident and flawless and Tarys was finding it increasingly difficult to parry everyone of them. He hadn’t considered it before but teleportation was more tiring than he would’ve liked and he hadn’t been conservative in its use; something he had a feeling Ishra noticed and was taking advantage of.

Blurs of blue and green filled his eyes as the duel devolved into a tug of war between the two of them. Thinking had become a luxury he couldn’t afford so his body moved on its own. He relied on his muscle memory - split seconds to make decisions were too long. Ishra’s calm expression began to fade as he saw that even she was starting to tire of the skirmish but disengaging wasn't an option for either of them; doing so would be inviting defeat.

Then, he felt a burn on his side.

He darted his eyes to the side of his body and he saw Ishra’s blade recoiling away from it after a successful attack. The last one she needed.

He’d lost.

Tarys stepped back, wincing from the combined pain of the burn and the overexertion he subjected his body to. It seemed Ishra had only then realised that she’d won the Tournament; she turned off her sabers and walked towards Tarys. He followed suit, it was over - he’d lost, no matter how much he wished for a do-over.

Ishra extended her hand out to Tarys, which he shook as graciously as he could, trying to swallow the disappointment he felt toward himself.

“You were awesome,” Tarys sighed, shaking his head - more at himself than anything.

“Don’t be like that,” Ishra laughed. “We both know you get way sadder than you should whenever you think you didn’t do well enough. For the record, I had almost no clue what I was doing at the end there - so you could’ve just as easily won.”

“If you say so,” Tarys gave a half-hearted chuckle back. She was right; he did have a bad habit of letting even the slightest defeat overwhelm him. No matter what his mind wanted to tell him, he did well.

“That was crazy though. I didn’t think for a second it was gonna be that close. The other matches were a piece of cake compared to you.”

“Turns out we both had more in us than the other thought.”

“We should’ve known better, especially when we randomly stopped training together,” she laughed.

“Oh, that makes so much sense now! You were off training your Battle Meditation, weren’t you?” Tarys’s face lit up in revelation.

“Did you seriously not think there was a reason for it?”

“I don’t know, I guess I thought you just got tired of me,” he shrugged.

“We still hung out literally everyday, stupid,” her eyes narrowed and she shook her head in disbelief.

Before he could object to the insult Master Seros entered the circle and shook both Initiates’ hands before addressing them.

“Exceptionally fought, young ones. I think I speak for the whole Order when I say that the two of you truly blew us away with your skill. Congratulations on your victory. I certainly didn’t expect you to be capable of Battle Meditation,” he said, before turning to Tarys. “Nor for you to be able to teleport. When did you learn these? Surely they weren’t part of your studies at the Academy.”

“I found out I could do it last year, Master, and trained in my own time since,” Tarys confirmed.

“The same for me,” Ishra affirmed.

“At the same time?” Master Seros smiled, “That can’t be a coincidence, can it?”

“Tarys and I are somewhat… competitive,” Ishra explained, considering her choice of word carefully.

“If it leads to the two of you becoming so skilled so young then I support it. Be careful to not let it breed hate, however. Competition often does if you don’t have the humility to recognise your shortcomings.”

Of course, a Jedi Master found a way to teach a lesson even during a congratulatory speech.

Master Seros then turned to face the audience and started speaking in a clear and authoritative tone.

“I am honoured to announce that after what was a round that put us all in awe and filled us with pride for the next generation, the victor of this year’s Jedi Apprentice Tournament is Ishra Datharr!”

Tarys thought he’d be bitter, he was so close to beating her but he wasn’t. Maybe that was the reason: he got close enough to be happy, to be proud of himself despite his defeat. Besides, it was probably the most fun he’d ever had in a fight and he’d learned more about Ishra fought - that knowledge was going to be put to good use whenever they next sparred.

After receiving congratulations from and shaking hands with several Jedi, including every member of the Council on Tython, all the contestants were given the day off, mainly to recover. Tarys considered that a great thing since as the adrenaline was wearing off the pain of the burns he’d sustained finally caught up to him. getting burnt by a lightsaber, even a training one, five times in three weeks meant that he would probably be in some minor pain for the next few days.

More importantly, Initiates were now expected to use the time to speak to potential masters and hopefully have one take them on. Every Initiate who participated in the tournament, and even those that didn’t for that matter, could expect to find someone. Jedi sought out Initiates who would complement them well, not necessarily the best fighters. 

Tarys had actually received multiple offers already which left him overwhelmed; he was not expecting to be in such high demand. He could see that Ishra was similarly uncomfortable, talking to Jedi after Jedi who was trying to assess if they were the right fit for them. Before anyone else could come to speak to Tarys though he wanted to seek out the only person he’d specifically wanted as his master: Jedi Master Satele Shan. 

They exchanged brief pleasantries earlier when he and Ishra met the rest of the council, but he hadn’t gotten a chance to ask her. The two Initiates certainly had their hands full. He knew all eight of the participants of the last round usually received the glory in more or less equal amounts, but this year the spotlight was really on Ishra and him, which still felt extremely odd.

He scoured the massive crowd looking for the familiar brown outfit Master Satele always wore and after several minutes of weaving through hordes of Jedi returning to their daily activities, he finally found her.

“Master Satele, do you have time to talk?”

“I do, let’s go to one of the refectories. I’m sure you’re hungry after that,” she answered.

Tarys laughed, “Yeah, I’m starving.”

He hadn’t actually realised how hungry he’d gotten. it was well past the time he’d usually have lunch by then and fighting what was easily the tensest battle of his life did nothing to help that fact.

Tarys was soon sitting opposite Master Satele with a tray of hot food in front of him. Even at this time, when very few people if any would be having a meal there were easily several dozen in this refectory alone, all involved in their own conversations and needless to say, their food. The holodisplays on the wall showed the day’s news. some Senator had made a speech of some kind, which they always did, nothing important was happening politically, other than the debate on the rebuilding of the Coruscant Temple. Tarys couldn’t believe that wasn’t an immediate “yes” on the Senate’s part. the Republic was meant to look out for the Jedi just as the Jedi protected the Republic, right?

“So, Master, I’m sure you know what I wanted to talk about,” Tarys started.

“I have an idea, yes.”

“Then I’ll cut right to the chase: I want to be your Padawan if you’ll have me,” he stated outright, there was no need to skirt around the issue.

Tarys automatically started tapping his foot on the floor and he could feel his hands shaking a little, he decided to put the fork down to save himself embarrassment. He looked Master Satele in the eye as he waited for an answer, and each moment of silence stretched to become a millennium.

Tarys stopped breathing as Master Satele started speaking.

“Why do you want to be my Padawan? Why not any of the other Masters? Any of them would have you after the tournament.”

That was not what he was expecting. Tarys was looking for a yes or a no - well, a yes - but either way, certainly not a question like that.

“It feels right I guess, I don’t really know, ever since my Gathering I just felt like I belonged as your Padawan. like no other Master was “right” for me. I know it sounds stupid and I’m sorry and I know you always say to follow the Force but when it comes to this… I don’t know it just, it just feels right, even if I don’t have to ask the Force,” he really wasn’t sure what to say, but that was the best he could do to voice his scrambled thoughts.

“Good. That’s the only reason you should want someone specific as your Master. And for what it’s worth, I believe that “feeling” is the Force. You know how the Gathering works. It’s the Force testing you, your resolve, your will before granting you a crystal. If it was the Gathering that instilled that feeling in you, then all this time you have been following the Force,” she replied.

Was that a yes? Was that a no? Why couldn’t she give a straight answer? It was good to know that he at least had his heart in the right place.

“Uh, does that mean that…?”

“Yes, it does. As of now, I take you as my Padawan and apprentice. The first order of business: having you building a lightsaber - or two, in your case,” she stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

This was easily the best day of his life, first winning the tournament then becoming Master Satele’s Padawan? Nothing could beat the feeling. Finally, all these years of drumming thousands of years of history, politics and philosophy into his head, and the training. It all was starting to pay off.

After he finished eating, Master and Padawan walked to her office so she could fill out the paperwork, and make it official. Tarys was beyond excited. He was going to learn under Master Satele, easily the greatest Jedi alive. She was a veteran of the War, and to hear the news tell it she was the single reason the Republic won the Battle of Alderaan and went toe to toe with Darth Malgus, who seemed to be the strongest Sith in the galaxy. He’d never asked her about it but now, he’d probably get the full story firsthand, in time.

Once they got to her office, Master Satele, his Master, beckoned him to sit in the chair opposite her desk and spoke to him.“So I’m sure you can understand if I have several questions about what you did in the tournament. I want to know what you want to do, want to learn, what you want your path as a Jedi to be so I know what to teach you.”

“That makes sense, umm, what specifically? Er, master,” To him that word had taken on a whole different meaning and even saying it filled him with pride.

“Well let’s start with this: when did you start learning Jar’Kai? And teleportation for that matter? You’re clearly naturally predisposed to it, there are Masters who can’t teleport as quickly and smoothly as you can. I daresay it’s almost a different Force power entirely.”

“I started messing around with using two sabers after learning about Revan in class, so about two years ago, I think.” Revan was easily the coolest Jedi Tarys had learned about at the time, minus the becoming a Dark Lord thing, of course, 

“Revan’s a dangerous example to follow Tarys, make sure you don’t follow him into the dark side, even if he did redeem himself.” Master Satele seemed amused for some reason.

“I know, Master. And for the teleporting, well I call it blinking because from what I read about teleporting, it isn’t exactly the same as what I can do so I wanted a new name for it. Anyway, I did the first time by accident while I was practising Jar’Kai. I sort of just ended up behind the dummy and I had no idea how I got there. And then I did it again. I realised eventually it was an actual power I was using so I started trying to figure it out and training it,” explained Tarys.

“Only a Padawan and already naming Force powers?” She laughed, “Blink is a fitting name though, I think it’ll stick. So you had two years with Jar’Kai and a year with blinking, and you were able to keep it all a secret the entire time? More importantly, why did you?”

“Well, I didn’t want any of my teachers to know, I tried writing about a school of thought about the cosmic Force we hadn’t been taught yet, and Master Dumma told me off for getting ahead of the class so I figured it was just best to just learn in private and save myself the earful. And it wasn’t that hard to train alone, there’s always at least one practice room free I just had to find it whenever I trained.”

“An instructor disapproved of you learning in your own time? That’s unacceptable. I know Master Dumma is old fashioned, but I didn’t expect him to go that far. I’ll have a word with him. Discouraging learning isn’t right, even if it complicates teaching,” Master Satele was visibly annoyed at that revelation.

“Thanks, Master, although I don’t think I’ll be among the ones benefiting from that. You said you wanted me to build lightsabers? How do I do that?”

“Well first you have to find the materials for them, including an additional crystal, you don’t need to go through the Gathering again for that though, the Temple has a stockpile you can pick from. A lightsaber is a highly personal thing so you want to let the Force guide your choice of parts. as the Force led you to your crystal and to me, it’ll lead you to the rest of your lightsaber parts,” his Master explained.

“Actually Master, I already have two. for some reason the crystal I got split into two, they weren’t any smaller than the ones the others got when I compared them though.”

“I see. The Force must have bonded you to those crystals for a reason then, I suppose it sensed that you would use two lightsabers and gave you crystals accordingly.”

They talked at length about what being a Padawan meant and what they would do going forward, Tarys was especially excited about going on missions for the first time, proper ones, and he would finally go off-world regularly. Master Satele was a member of the High Council but she promised to spend more time off Tython than on it. Many Council members spend years outside off the planet after all.

* * *

Three months later, at the Jedi Forge on Tython.

Tarys knelt at the foot of a richly decorated table. it was adorned with text in the ancient language of the Je’daii Order, the predecessors to his own. He’d already carefully arranged the pieces of his lightsabers on the stone surface as Master - no, Grand Master Satele Shan watched from the steps.

It was difficult to use telekinesis on multiple objects, extremely so, but Tarys had improved immensely already during the few months he had under Master Satele’s tutelage so he was confident he’d be able to build the two lightsabers at the same time. if nothing else, it would be a challenge.

The Force drew him to parts made of Duralium-enhanced steel, they were a blue-green colour, favouring the blue but once again for some inexplicable reason, they just “felt” right. Tarys drew a deep breath and set to work, he felt each crystal as its own entity, separate, but part of the whole which would make his two lightsabers. Eyes closed, he levitated both individual components for each section of the saber, first, the sleeve. Then, the switch. Then, the crystals. They slotted in perfectly into the switch and Tarys couldn’t help but smile, knowing that the sabers were perfect. 

The emitters were outside the norm, however. They needed to be because the crystals were broken parts of a larger one. When one was in a lightsaber and further than about three feet from the other, the blade began behaving erratically. When both were in sabers and being used at the same time however, they were perfectly stable, it was as if being in close proximity made the crystals whole. But in the case that Tarys ever needed to use only one of the sabers Master Satele suggested an ancient emitter design, suited for unstable crystals. This was the crossguard lightsaber and so both his emitters sported further protrusions from their side which would vent out quillons, essentially shorter lightsaber blades that allowed excess energy to leave the hilt.

He felt the lightsabers become complete as the emitters attached themselves to the rest of the hilt, each part becoming bonded on a microscopic level with the others to become two distinct, single objects. The sabers floated into his hands as he stood up. He felt the switches against his thumbs and pressed them, igniting the sabers and revealing bright cyan blades. The quillons extended perpendicularly to the main blades but the metal vent shielded his hands from the plasma itself.

"Well done, Padawan. You'll want to shorten the blade though, at least until you get tall enough to use the full length without the risk of harming yourself,” Master Satele advised.

His Master was right, the sheer length of the blades proved unwieldy for him, he needed to shorten them. If they were dual-phase lightsabers he could've adjusted the length as much as he would've liked but because each saber only had one crystal each he only had a limited degree of control over the blades' lengths. He finally had his own lightsabers. Most of the other Padawans from the tournament got theirs a good while before, but they didn’t have to find twice the number of parts.

He was ready for whatever the galaxy could throw at him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! Please leave any feedback you have, or just share your thoughts! I'd love to hear what you think about the story, characters, anything!
> 
> Also, next time on ~~Dragon Ball Z~~ To Become a Hero, we'll finally be meeting our leading lady!
> 
> Chapter 4 will be up next Saturday!


	5. The Sith Girl

### Chapter 4: The Sith Girl

_3643 BBY - Six Years after Padawan Tarys Valerys began his apprenticeship to Grand Master Satele Shan_

Satele Shan’s ship landed on Cademimu V, a richly inhabited industrial world that the Republic used as its main weapons stockpile in the Outer Rim. Centuries of industrial processes had left the environment ridden with smog and Tarys couldn’t help but cough as he stepped off the Jedi vessel. The dark red sky was further blackened by towers of smoke billowing from burning buildings and machines as thousands took to the streets in protest of the actions of their governor, Chornarov.

“Tarys, you know why we’re here. Governor Chornarov has seized power and declared martial law. He’s declared Cademimu independent from the Republic and is trying to seize the weapons here,” Satele briefed him.

“What I don’t get is, why would he do that? Surely he’d want the Republic’s protection during a Cold War like this.”

“He was charged with corruption - taking bribes - and was due to be arrested just before he made the declaration. It’s fair to say that probably has something to do with it,” she explained.

“Sounds guilty.”

“He does, but as always, it’s not our place to judge. Ideally, we arrest him ourselves and turn him over to Republic authorities. Our job here is to remove him from power and retake the missiles that are stored here. We cannot allow Chornarov to control them. Billions could die if they were all fired.”

“Understood, Master. So what’s the plan? The missiles should come first right?” Tarys asked.

“Ordinarily I’d agree but with the governor’s private army violently suppressing the rioting it’s imperative he’s arrested as soon as possible and the mercenaries dispersed. The missiles need to be under control immediately too, however. Listen, Tarys. We’re going to split up. You’re going to go to the missile battery and I’ll take care of the governor. You’ve worked hard, I trust you,” she said, putting a reassuring hand on her Padawan’s shoulder.

“Split up? If you think I can do it… Then I can, yeah, missile battery, got it,” Tarys affirmed. The plan was sound, both sides of the mission were time-sensitive so it was smart to pursue both simultaneously. Tarys just hoped his Master’s faith was not misplaced.

The warm street lighting on the planet made the sky feel all that much redder with the grey metal that the streets were made out of adopting a slight orange tint that made them seem even more unnatural than they already were. Master Satele had given Tarys the coordinates to the missile battery, it wasn’t too far only about an hour’s walk from the landing point. He’d be faster if he ran, of course. 

The mission briefing on the ship warned that junior officers guarded the path to the battery. They shouldn’t be too much trouble for Tarys though, he trusted in his fighting abilities and lately he’d been practising Form III (Soresu) quite a bit so he’d become adept at blocking blaster fire.

What bothered him the most, however, were the sounds he was hearing. Screaming and shouting and explosions seemed to dominate the scene as the citizens had formed something of a militia to fight against the governor’s private army. Tarys’s stomach turned at the thought of the sort of man this planet’s supposed protector had chosen to hire. General Ortol was only a general in the Ord Mantell Separatist Movement, an organised force fighting the Republic on the planet, and if the Republic’s field reports were to be believed, Ortol had sent millions of soldiers, civilians and even children to their deaths.

That sort of man had no place outside of a prison.

War was ugly, there were no two ways about it. He didn’t even remember much of the Great War but from what he’d seen of this Cold War, he only wanted peace. People deserved peace and happiness, not whatever the smell of burning flesh and decaying bodies entailed. Tarys was a Jedi, he’d uphold peace. That was what the Padawan told himself as he steeled himself for battle. He didn’t mind fighting, he enjoyed it even but only as an exercise. As soon as he began to think about why he had ignited his lightsabers, it made him realise that he’d try to avoid fighting as much as he could.

When he was younger he looked forward to fighting, the missions and all of what came with being Padawan and then came with becoming a Knight. But he realised now, with the more missions he did with Master Satele, why she and the rest of the Jedi were so strongly opposed to unnecessary fighting and why Initiates were told as often as they were to trust in the force to stay their blade unless they absolutely needed it.

There was one time where Tarys had nearly died. He was hopelessly weak compared to his opponent and he’d nearly been killed. Even now, two years since then, thinking about it made him shiver. Jedi were not supposed to fear death, in fact, they were not supposed to fear at all. But that day he was well and truly afraid. Not so much of the idea that he was going to die but of the being, the _creature_ that was going to kill him. The amount of darkness he felt, it dwarfed the darkness he’d felt from Padawan Callef’s bag during his Initiate Trials. He felt the darkness of a true Sith Lord. It was only due to Master Satele’s intervention that he survived, and it was Tarys’ fault Master Satele was even there. If he hadn’t broken… If he’d held out… 

The Sith’s golden eyes had been so full of hate and anger, like he hadn’t felt peace in all of his life. The memory was an uncomfortable one but he couldn’t deny that the dark side held power. It was no wonder that the Sith Empire was such a threat.

_“Do not fear, you’ll be fine.”_

Master Satele’s voice echoed within his mind, of course, she could read his feelings, even when she was worlds away she knew if he was afraid. That’s what happened when Master and Padawan shared a force bond. Tarys tried to take his Master’s words to heart. He could do this. In truth, it was the first time he’d been assigned such a critical part of a mission to complete on his own, there would’ve been a time where he’d jump at such a chance but now… he wasn’t certain he could complete the task.

Even if he could not believe in himself, he’d try to believe in Master Satele, she’d earned that and more after all these years. She said she believed in him and he trusted her. Tarys held up his wrist to his face, tapping a few commands into his wrist-mounted holo and brought up a map of the local area, he was headed in the right direction.

Of course, he didn’t need a map to tell him that when he heard an irritated (and irritat _ing_ ) voice shout that he wasn’t allowed there. More often than not, the places he wasn’t allowed were exactly the places he needed to be. 

Tarys gave the landscape a quick scan. There were two of them, the man who just spoke to them and an assault droid, an EN model if he remembered right. The two of them would be fine, what really worried him were the two turrets flanking them - four enemies shooting at him would be trouble. An EMP grenade would have been stellar right then. 

Time to see if training Soresu had paid off.

He unhooked his sabers from his belt and ignited them, familiar cyan blades forming immediately after pressing the buttons. Being able to use the blades at full length was definitely helpful in deflecting blaster fire. As soon as he ignited the sabers, he had four separate sets of plasma bolts aiming for him. _Go into battle calmly._ Tarys drew a deep breath and felt the trajectory of each bolt through the Force and moved a lightsaber to block it accordingly. None of these weapons were automatic, meaning they were slow enough for him to close the distance between him and his enemies comfortably enough.

As soon as he was within four metres of one of the droids he blinked behind it and impaled it with his lightsabers. One down. Tarys then threw his offhand saber toward the EN droid’s blaster, cutting it into two pieces. So long as he stayed outside of melee range the droid was harmless now. These lower-ranking “officers” were never too smart, instead of spreading out and making Tarys work to defeat them he stayed close to his allies, all within blinking range for him.

That’s what happens when you give out promotions within an unprofessional mercenary army.

Tarys teleported on top of the droid then immediately to the side of the other turret and severed its head from its base, ensuring it wouldn’t give the Padawan any more trouble. He then blinked back to the droid, making sure to act quickly before the seven-foot-tall automaton was able to attack him in return. Tarys severed one of its legs from its body, toppling it, and stabbed his other saber into the machine’s torso. Between the two strikes, it was unambiguously neutralised. 

Now, the officer himself. Teleportation was truly a blessing for Tarys. He was able to move across a battlefield much faster than most people could even react, and this situation was no exception as Ortol’s henchman was clearly rattled when he noticed that suddenly all three of his allies were down for the count.

“Surrender, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Are you a Jedi? The General never said anything about Jedi,” the officer asked, clearly hoping it wasn’t true.

“What gave it away? Was it the lightsabers or the Force powers? Come on, you’re beaten, put the blaster down and I won’t have to hurt you,” Tarys never did like taking action against living beings. He’d killed before, it was necessary and he had come to terms with that, but if it could be helped, he always wanted to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. 

To his relief, the man did as he asked, raising one arm and bending down to put the blaster on the ground. That wasn’t so hard, hopefully, the rest of the mission would go that smoothly, although Tarys knew he was tempting fate by even thinking that.

“You know I can’t just leave you, I saw some of your colleagues carrying stun cuffs, I assume you do too, I’ll be needing to use them to restrain you.” 

“What? First, you make me surrender then you wanna ‘restrain’ me? No way!” The man tried to run away from him, having seemingly forgotten Tarys could teleport to him in an instant, or having just chosen to ignore that fact.

Doing so, Tarys pushed the man to the ground and took the cuffs from his belt and clamped his hands into the contraption, then his legs. He let him sit up on the ground to give him some shred of comfort.

“You’re going to wait here until Republic authorities arrive to arrest you. You are _not_ going to even try moving, understood?”

“There isn’t much I can do about it now is there?” The soldier grumbled.

Next time Tarys was just going to Force Persuade them.

The Padawan continued along the path his holo showed him and found a lone Wookie holding a cannon that looked to match Tarys in size. If there was ever one time or another Tarys wished he knew Shyriiwook, this was it. He had no desire to have an angry Wookie shooting at him. Being part of Ortol’s army the Wookie likely understood Basic. Hopefully, he’d be able to make him stand down.

He had no such luck. As soon as he stepped within the Wookie’s line of sight, a massive jet of fire threatened to burn him alive if he didn’t move out of the way. So, that was a flamethrower and not a cannon. Good to know. Tarys had to be especially careful too, if he was inaccurate and pierced the gas cylinder on the Wookie’s back with his lightsaber then it would all light and explode, potentially killing both of them. The best way to deal with this was probably to cut off his access to the weapon, cutting off the handles was probably his best bet then.

This would need extreme precision, so Tarys only turned on one of his lightsabers and started blinking towards his enemy, first cutting the connection between the Wookie’s right hand and the flamethrower, which was a long metal tube that was far enough removed from the main mechanism that the risk of any gas catching fire was negligible. His enemy let go of the flame thrower, not wanting to get burned by the lightsaber. Perfect. Then he grabbed Tarys with his now free right hand and hoisted him into the air. Not perfect.

His grip was tight, any tighter and his ribs would’ve started breaking. Tarys couldn’t even teleport away, he needed to be able to physically move for that to work. Maybe Force Persuasion could still work? It was a long shot but it was the best idea he had before he was crushed by the Wookie, who had by now added a second hand to support his iron grip.

 _“You will put me down and surrender, then you will wait for Republic forces to apprehend you without resistance,”_ Tarys said, waving his free left hand in front of the Wookie’s face.

Tarys had put all his faith on the assumptions that the Wookie understood Basic at all and that it would work. Moments later he felt the grip on him loosen as he touched the ground. _Thank the Force_. The Wookie then stood down putting his flamethrower and the backpack it was attached to on the ground and quietly sat on the floor himself, waiting, Tarys assumed, for Republic forces. That went well, all things considered.

He continued on. Now he was only a few minutes away, and thankfully most of the soldiers’ attention was taken up by the riots and it appeared all but the most senior leaders were on the streets trying to suppress the uprising. Going up a ramp, he finally reached the battery, then he heard the deafening sound of a ship landing. An Imperial ship.

Tarys prepared himself for battle, igniting both his sabers and adopting a loose stance. He had to be ready for anything.

The ship’s door slowly opened until it created a ramp to the ground and from it emerged a single person, a girl clad in black. She looked to be the same age as him. In her hand she held a lightsaber hilt, longer than a normal one. It looked like Master Satele’s, did she use a double-bladed lightsaber too? After she saw him she ignited it, revealing purple blades on either side. Well, that answered that. Tarys was perplexed though, someone using a lightsaber from the Empire had to be Sith right? And Sith used red sabers, at least as far as he’d heard at least.

The Empire wasn’t supposed to be involved. This was a Republic issue, Cademimu was still a Republic world. Had the Empire really violated the Treaty?

“Who are you?” Tarys asked as loud as he could.

“I could ask the same of you,” she answered.

She probably wasn’t going to say if she was Empire anyway.

“Tarys Valerys of the Jedi Order, why are you here?”

“What’s a Padawan doing on his own in front of a missile battery?” She seemed to take after Master Satele in more than one regard, neither liked straight answers. But that must have been it, she must’ve been after the missiles too.

The braid on the side of his head was rather conspicuous and gave away his rank quite quickly, which was dangerous among enemies.

“Are you Sith?” It didn’t make sense, but she had to be.

“If I am then we have to fight, don’t we?” Again, she answered his question with a question.

“You don’t sound happy about that.”

Finally, she stepped close enough for him to see her face. His eyes immediately went to her own, because if she was a Sith then the dark side would have turned her eyes golden, that same bleeding gold that he’d seen in pictures and in… the Sith that nearly killed him. But in her those eyes were absent, instead, her lightsaber illuminated a set of green eyes, not a sign of yellow or red in them.

“I'm not.”

At first, he was stunned, a Sith, not happy about potentially fighting a Jedi? Experience told him she was lying but he didn’t feel any malice or dishonesty from her. Maybe she could be trusted. Tarys turned off his lightsabers. If there was a fight he could avoid, avoid it he would.

“Then as far as I'm concerned, you're just a random passerby who just _happens_ to carry a double-bladed lightsaber. I do have to ask, we both have jobs to do here, are you going to let me do mine?” Tarys asked, not fighting her was great but if she was going to stop him from taking control of the battery then they would have to fight either way.

“I appreciate that. But I take it letting me take control of the battery won't do, will it?”

“Not if it means the Empire controls it. I'm sorry, guess the random passerby thing won't work,” Tarys said with sadness in his voice. She didn't seem so bad for an Imperial.

Any reply she could give was cut short by gunshots aimed at the both of them, followed by the emergence of a man in traditional Ord Mantellian armour.

“Republic, Empire, doesn't matter! None of you belongs on Cademimu or on Ord Mantell. Chornarov may be cowering in his bunker but we'll do our job!” The man announced.

Ortol.

A few seconds after the “General” gave a brief command into a comlink, dozens of soldiers arrived from both sides. He was surrounded. No, _they_ were surrounded. He and the Imperial girl had to work together.

The two were driven into the centre of a circle of armed soldiers, all looking to kill them. He felt his back hit the girl’s. Working with someone he was pretty sure was Sith. Who'd have thought?

“Guess we're a team now. I didn't get your name.” If he had a partner, knowing their name was ideal. He was still reluctant to trust her, but he couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that she was different, different from the _other_ Sith, the one that… His thought was interrupted by the girl’s answer.

“Astraia. If we survive this, I'd like to not be arrested, thanks,” she said, readying her lightsaber.

“Deal.” Tarys followed suit, igniting both his blades and getting into position. “I can probably take out about a good few of them before they start attacking, from there avoiding fire's gonna be difficult.”

“You can what? How?” She shook her head. “Doesn't matter, I've got the avoiding fire covered, worry about making sure you don't get shot.”

“Also, not sure if you care but the leader is a known war criminal. My Master called him a mass murderer, responsible for millions dead.” It was better that she knew the sort of man she was up against.

“I know, and I _do_ care. Not all Sith are heartless,” she confirmed.

“And there goes my plausible deniability." The comment drew a chuckle from his partner. Tarys saw the grunts in front of him start aiming their blasters, they were all finally in position. "I'm gonna go… now!”

He blinked as far as he could and as soon as he landed he sensed blaster bolts headed his way, blocking them just in time. As soon as he was ready Tarys blinked again behind one of the soldiers. There were too many of them, he didn't have time to take restraining measures, he'd have to kill. He did so as mercifully as he could, driving the tip of his saber straight into the soldier's chest.

Sadness filled him as he felt the life leave the man's body. Master Satele could have found a better way. _There is no emotion. There is peace._ He repeated those words to himself but they didn't help. He never wished to kill. 

Tarys used his position to catch a glimpse of Astraia, hopefully, she was okay. As soon as he saw her any doubts he had about her skill were washed away. She spun her saber around with deft precision, seamlessly bouncing the plasma bolts off the blades so that they'd ricochet back to those who fired them, all while walking towards them so she could make it a close-quarters fight.

Tarys closed the distance himself, picking them off before they could effectively return an attack. Teleporting away was an effective way to stay out of the line of fire for sure. Within minutes over two dozen mercenaries lay dead on the floor, a needless loss of life - why couldn't they just surrender? Or just not fight on the side of a tyrant?

Another minute passed and between himself and Astraia all of Ortol's underlings had fallen, and all the while their "leader" just stood there with some vibrosword in his hand. The man was truly vile. A good leader leads by example, not by letting those they led to take the fall for them.

“Surrender Ortol. It's us against you, you can't win.”

Astraia seemed to object, “He's not worth the effort Padawan. We should just kill him, justice done.”

“No, he'll be given a trial then a punishment. It's not our place to be the judges.”

“Sure it is. We both know the things he's done. Men like him don't deserve mercy.”

Ortol seemed to ignore their exchange as he suddenly attacked Tarys with his vibrosword, not giving him time to react. He winced as he felt both a shock and a cut from the contact between the blade and his skin. Tarys tried to attack in return but the general blocked his attack. He started a flurry of slashes at the Mantellian but Ortol parried each and every one of them with his vibrosword. It seemed that he was more skilled than Tarys gave him credit for. Astraia thankfully joined and started attacking him too but Ortol seemed to be able to avoid both of their attacks, always a step ahead of the both of them.

“What you two lack is experience, and that’s gonna be what kills you, you hear me? Not me, you! You started this, it’s your fault you die today,” Ortol said, voice full of venom.

The General seemed to be able to fight even his teleportation, it was like he could predict exactly where he could be, like he had superhuman reflexes or something. Try as they might, neither Tarys nor Astraia could land even a single hit on him. They were both tired and Ortol was fresh, that didn’t help their fight either.

“Step back, I have an idea. You have to buy me some time though, and jump out of the way when I tell you to, or teleport, whatever,” Astraia told him, panting and trying to catch her breath.

“Sure, I’ll hold him off,” he replied with more confidence than he had.

Tarys was willing to try anything at this point, and hopefully, Astraia would pull through. He renewed his stance, trying to ignore the pool of sweat gathering on his forehead and how sticky he felt between the perspiration on his body, the thick Padawan uniform he wore and the acrid air that dominated Cademimu. Ortol knew Astraia was planning something though so he seemed to ignore him and ran towards her. She seemed to be… meditating? A Sith. Meditating. Tarys had never heard of such a thing - it didn’t matter, he had to trust her. Just as Ortol’s blade was about to make contact with Astraia Tarys teleported into him, tackling him to the ground, a second later and she’d have died.

Tarys tried to keep him occupied more proactively, initiating a barrage of slashes and swipes, each and every one parried and countered to the point where Tarys wore several new cuts and gashes across his body, and each and every one of them hurt like hell. Astraia’s idea couldn’t come soon enough. _Come on, come on, come on._ Was he wrong to trust a Sith? He didn’t sense any deceit from her though. 

Then he felt it. The cold, the darkness, the _power_. It was frightening, it was like him, just like him. It couldn’t be… her? Tarys turned around to the direction of what he felt. It _was_ her. Her eyes had changed, they were golden now, circled by blood and by anger and hate. Astraia raised her hand and purple lightning crackled at her fingertips. He was afraid. She was just like _him_ , just as powerful, just as threatening, just as deadly.

Tarys then felt a sharp electric shock on his back, it was fast but so painful, he struggled to stand until he couldn’t keep his balance anymore.

“No!” Said a muffled feminine voice.

Then, black.

* * *

Tarys woke up to the red sky of… Cademimu? And a face. It was a pretty face, full of warmth and for some reason, concern. Why was it concerned?

“You okay? You were only out for about half an hour,” the pretty face spoke.

“Where? What?” Tarys tried to sit up, then it all came rushing back - Ortol. “Where is he?”

“Over there, I killed him. I know you wanted him alive but there was no other way, not that he deserved anything else. I thought I struck you, too. I’m so sorry. It was him though. He stabbed you in the back while you stood there, staring at me.” Astraia was the pretty face and the realisation made him uncomfortable, but there was no mistaking the worry and sorrow in her tone. “Did I… scare you?”

Tarys looked down, the top of his robe was off and replaced by bacta patches covering practically every inch of his torso, he’d been hurt quite badly it seemed. He considered her question. She did scare him, well, _he_ did, and she reminded Tarys of him. There was no question about it: seeing her with those Sith eyes and the sheer amount of rage that irradiated off of her was petrifying.

“Yes,” was all he could manage.

“I see. I hope you know I didn’t mean to.”

Tarys looked into her eyes again, they were the same green they’d been when they met, none of the hatred from before, none of the anger, just honest regret. He felt drawn to her. No. What was he thinking? He was a Jedi, he’d trained himself to not even think such things. She was a _Sith_ , she was on _his_ side.

He then heard his Master’s voice in his mind, _“Tarys, are you alright? Answer me.”_

_“Yes Master, I’m fine now, what’s your status?”_

_“Good to hear, you had me worried. I’m approaching the Governor’s bunker now, had to go through the thick of the fighting to get there, we’ll rendezvous at the ship. How’s the battery?”_

“I’ll be getting there right now,” Tarys answered out loud, putting an end to the Force-aided conversation. Master Satele was always there to look after him, that was something he would be eternally grateful for. “And yeah, I know that now. It’s fine, really, thanks for patching me up,” he said, answering Astraia.

“You’re welcome. Who was that you were talking to? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“My Master. she’s with me on this mission, she went to arrest Governor Chornarov in his bunker,” he explained, it was strange being so conversational with a Sith but she had saved his life, he owed her that much.

“Would I know her?”

“Grand Master Satele Shan.”

“Right and my master is the Emperor,” Astraia scoffed.

“Wait, really?” He’d just fought with the Emperor’s apprentice? It explained why she was so powerful.

“Oh stars, you’re being serious," she replied, incredulous.

“Of course I am, my Master is on the short list of things I'd never joke about. What about you? Do you have a master? Or are you a Sith Lord?”

“Definitely not a lord. I'm an apprentice to Lord Zash, I doubt you'd know her though, she's _slightly_ less famous than Satele Shan. I have to say, I'd love to meet her, but I think I already used up all my luck meeting a Padawan that didn't want to kill me,” she laughed.

It was a sweet laugh. Tarys mentally chided himself as soon as he had that thought. _Come on, get a grip._

“Yeah, I'd introduce you but I _did_ promise not to arrest you, so it's going to be one or the other. Either way, we need to be getting to the battery, decide if we end up fighting you know?” He laughed himself, and something told him no matter what happened with the missiles he and Astraia wouldn't be fighting.

“Agreed. We've wasted enough time here - Not that making sure you're alright was a waste of time, you get what I mean,” she stammered with the faintest blush appearing on her cheeks.

It was weird to think that this girl was the very same one who frightened him so much less than an hour earlier. The amount of fear he felt was overwhelming, he shook his head - no, he wouldn’t think about that. Astraia took one of Tarys's arms around her shoulder to give him support and the two walked slowly through the winding tunnel that had the sector's largest stockpile of weapons on the other side of it. It took longer than it otherwise would have to reach the large console that controlled the missiles, Tarys’s injuries prevented him from walking as comfortably as he would have liked. Thankfully, Astraia was patient and lent him her support for as long as he needed.

The console’s holodisplay was tinted red and read, “Missile Launch Sequence Initialised, est. 3 minutes until launch.”

“What? Why are they launching?” Tarys blurted out, throwing his arm off of Astraia’s shoulder.

“Don’t know, my guess is your Master just got to the bunker and the good Governor launched them remotely,” Astraia offered, equally panicked.

Tarys looked at the buttons on the screen, there had to be a way to end the launch before it happened, there had to be. He entered every command he knew that could end a program into the console, and every time was rejected. Tarys kept trying different commands, different methods, anything he knew could help but he only had so much time at the Academy to learn about computers. Not nearly enough to learn all the tricks of the trade, even if he did have a keen interest.

After his latest attempt, the screen showed a new message - the sequence was locked - there was nothing they could do to stop it. Tarys closed his eyes and took a breath. _There is no chaos, there is harmony._ They still had two minutes before they launched. 

Astraia seemed to have something, “Look, this is the logistics console, I think we can redirect the missiles away from civilians.” She followed the onscreen instructions to bring them to the navigation screen for the missiles.

Under any other circumstances, Tarys would have wondered why a Sith would care about civilians getting hit but he supposed he was past that with Astraia, she had something _he_ didn’t: compassion. She was no ordinary Sith.

“Great, that could work. Where do we aim it though?” Tarys concurred, limping towards her.

“It looks like we have a limited range given how close we are to launch, the best we can do is Cademimu Vi, an uninhabited moon. Well, that or the Republic fleet, but that’s not happening. So, moon?” She explained, ready to input the command.

“Moon.”

As soon as he saw the screen confirm the new trajectory for the missiles Tarys gave an audible sigh of relief as he released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“That solves our other problem too I guess. My orders were to seize the battery or make sure the Republic didn’t get the missiles, so I suppose we’re not fighting after all,” she said, with a faint smile on her face.

“I’m glad to hear that. Mainly because you’d _definitely_ beat me in this state,” he pointed to his patched-up chest.

“Come on, I’m a good sport, I’d have only used one blade.”

“Ah right, really evening the playing field there,” Tarys tried to laugh but then it hurt too much.

“In any case, I should leave, I doubt that the fleet above us will be glad to find me here. It’s been a pleasure Tarys. I hope we never meet again,” the smile on her face became rueful as she looked down.

“Likewise - as enemies that is,” Tarys affirmed, taking her hand to shake it.

“Right,” she nodded him farewell and made her way back to her ship. Part of him didn’t want her to leave. She was… interesting.

Tarys covered his still bare chest with his cut-up tunic without fastening it fully, any pressure on his wounds still hurt more than it had any right to. He staggered back to his Master’s ship, noting the absence of Astraia’s Imperial vessel, and waited for her return. He wanted to go back and meet her, maybe even help her with any resistance on her way back but he was far too hurt to do that. Instead, he sat down on the ramp and did his best to think.

The deaths of those soldiers weighed heavily on his mind. They were criminals, terrible men and women who helped a tyrant commit violence against his people but still… they were themselves, people, they too had light in them and Tarys had extinguished it. He told himself that there was no other way because truly, there wasn’t, but it didn’t stop him from wishing that there was. Tarys was a Jedi and sometimes Jedi had to kill to stop innocents from being hurt or worse.

What was stranger still was that he’d done it with the help of a Sith Acolyte and one that seemed distant from the dark side, at least compared to what he’d heard. Admittedly his experience with Sith was limited to a single other encounter but surely the concern and kindness she showed him weren’t common among the Jedi’s sworn enemies? She took the time to apply bacta patches to every one of his wounds, leaving none exposed with supplies that he guessed came from her ship. Everything about her was baffling, from the colour of her lightsaber to her character and even her power. She was clearly capable of using the dark side, with lethal effectiveness, but why did she need to meditate in order to do so? Tarys had never heard of anything like it. Interesting was the wrong word. The Sith girl was utterly captivating.

Tarys then heard the rapid footsteps of someone running towards him and looked up to find Master Satele rushing to his side.

“You said you were alright Tarys, not hurt to the point of being covered with bacta patches!” She said, putting a hand on his shoulder and crouching down to meet his eyes. “I didn’t see Ortol with the Governor either, don’t tell me you had to fight him.”

“Him and a few dozen of his soldiers. I’m fine though Master, really, I’ll be up and ready in a couple of days. I didn’t do it on my own though, I had help.” Tarys recounted, straining to speak.

He continued, relating the events he had been part of and the strange nature of the “help” he’d had. Master Satele, to her credit, listened attentively as she always did, patiently absorbing the information he was telling her.

After he finished his recollection, his Master spoke. “I’m sorry you had to fight Ortol like that. I was meant to draw his attention, instead, he chased after you. It wasn’t meant to be like this. And this girl you mentioned, you promised to let her go? Personally, I agree with your decision, but the Order might think otherwise - next time confer with me. And while the loss of the missiles was regrettable, it was far preferable to the alternative. I think you did remarkably well, all things considered. I’m proud of you.” She gave him a reassuring smile.

“Thank you, Master, I appreciate it. I have to say though, as the Grand Master isn’t your opinion the - how do I put this - main one?”

“There’s no such thing as the main opinion, all Jedi in the Order have a voice. mine is just one, a respected one, yes, but still one against thousands. What is more concerning is that the Empire is openly involving themselves in Republic affairs. It looks like our encounter two years ago wasn’t a one-off incident - even if this time it was just an acolyte.”

Within twenty minutes of Master Satele gave the word, Republic soldiers began landing on the surface. Soon, Cademimu would finally be back at peace.

Hours later they were back on Tythonian soil. His Master was the _Grand_ Master, after all, so they spent more time on Tython than off it since she assumed her position. He was glad to be back in his own bed after such a long day but try as he might he couldn’t go to sleep, his mind was abuzz with activity. Flashes of a sandstone landscape filled his mind, the dull orange of the environment interrupted only by the cold grey of steel infrastructure and red banners bearing the Imperial insignia.

He felt confusion, not just his own, the puzzlement he felt was someone else’s. someone was in his head. Tarys got up from his bed. What was happening? 

_“Who are you?”_ He reached out to the other presence in his mind.

_“Tarys? It’s me. How-what’s happening?”_

Astraia?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four chapters in and we only now meet the other main character - whoops.
> 
> I'm so excited to be finally introducing her! Let me know what you think of the chapter as always!


	6. Bound

### Chapter 5: Bound

_“Tarys? It’s me. How-what’s happening?”_

Astraia?

 _“I have no idea, I’m not trying to use telepathy right now, are you?”_ Tarys asked.

_“Not that I know of. This just started on its own.”_

_“Same. Wait, are you getting strange images in your head too?”_

_“If you mean flashes of something that suspiciously resembles the Jedi Temple on Coruscant but in the middle of a forest - then yes.”_

Tython. She was seeing images of Tython. Why? She couldn’t have ever been here, and he’d never been to whatever place he was seeing pictures of. Tarys’s thoughts became more disorganised, his mind was racing to a hundred and one conclusions until it was interrupted by Astraia’s welcome voice.

_“I can feel you panicking, take a breath. Aren’t you Jedi meant to be all about calm? Tell me what you’re thinking.”_

So she could tell what she was feeling, did that mean that those other feelings he had, the other entity’s confusion, were Astraia’s emotions?

 _“Well, you basically described Tython to a tee. I’m going to describe what I’ve been seeing, tell me if it’s familiar.”_ Tarys went on to describe the dry and near desolate planet he’d seen only to sense that Astraia was bewildered, to put it mildly.

_“And you just told me exactly what Korriban looks like, which is where I am. Let me guess, you’re on Tython right now aren’t you?”_

_“I am.”_ Tarys could tell her breathing was quickening, it was like some sort of sixth sense. _“Now it’s your turn to slow down, I’m aware Sith aren’t famous for their calm.”_

_“Shush, I’m perfectly capable of being calm.”_

To her credit, after a few seconds, Tarys felt her breathing return to normal, or at least as normal as it could be, given the circumstances.

 _“So what? We can now see where we are? And why now? It’s only been almost half a day since we parted ways.”_ She continued her string of thoughts, each and every one of which were relayed to Tarys.

_“Not a clue. This seems a little like the Force bond I have with Master Satele. She can tell if I’m feeling any unusually strong emotions and we can communicate telepathically with a longer range than people without bonds, but this? This is extreme, I can’t say if it’s the same thing. Force bonds are supposed to take time, years, usually, to form and absolute trust to boot. We only met for a few hours.”_

_“Force bonds? I’ve never heard of them, but you have to admit this is suspiciously similar.”_

_“Really? They’re everywhere, don’t you have one with your master?”_

_“You said these bonds need trust to form? There’s precious little of that among the Sith, especially between master and apprentice.”_

_“Well… Another one is lightsaber crystals, every Jedi’s bonded to their lightsaber’s crystal. Have you ever held another lightsaber and felt it isn’t right? Like it just doesn’t belong in your hand?”_

_“That I_ have _felt. No one else around me though, I asked around about it. Then again, no one else failed to corrupt their kyber crystal.”_

_“Wait. What do you mean corrupt?”_

_“Don’t you know? Have you never wondered why every real Sith in history has had a red lightsaber? Kyber crystals are naturally attuned to the light side, us Sith aren’t too fond of that so we have to corrupt them, make them “bleed” so we can use them in our own sabers - turning them red. Except for me, I ended up with a purple lightsaber for some reason. Halfway between blue and red, I suppose.”_

_“Really? I knew about crystals being naturally leaning towards the light but never about how Sith use them. It makes sense, even if it’s cruel. Purple is one of the colours a kyber crystal can adopt though upon bonding. Do you know why there are so many colours?”_

_“I can’t say I do. And I wouldn’t say it’s cruel, merely adapting them for a different purpose.”_

_“Supposedly kyber crystals respond to their wielder’s character and take a certain colour accordingly. It’s been a good few years since I’ve looked at this back at the Academy, but I’m pretty sure purple represents moral ambiguity.”_

_“Ambiguity. Lovely. What about you? Your sabers weren’t quite blue were they? They were lighter.”_

_“Yeah, there’s only been a few previous recorded cases of cyan lightsabers, so no one’s been able to place a personality trait to it yet. I don’t know what my crystals say about me.”_

_“Well aren’t you the special one.”_ He could feel her mocking smile and he couldn’t do a thing about it. _“More importantly, is this permanent?”_

 _“Kriff.”_ Tarys usually wasn’t one to swear but the situation called for it. _“We’d better hope this isn’t a Force bond, because if it is-”_

_“Then I’m saddled with you for life.”_

_“Yeah.”_

It just dawned on him that it might be a lifelong bond and Tarys did not want to share his mind with anyone for _that_ long.

_“Well I’ll do what research I can but it’ll probably be on you for the most part. I’ve done my fair share of reading here on Korriban and haven’t found one mention of Force bonds.”_

_“Oh, I’ll turn the Temple upside down if I have to. You don’t seem so bad, but I don’t think I want you in my head, thanks.”_

_“Rude. Anyway, while we’re talking, I’m curious. What’s Tython like? Nevermind, what about the Republic? Tell me about Coruscant. I can’t say I’ve had a conversation with a Jedi before - or anyone from outside the Empire.”_

_“Woah woah, slow down. One question at a time,”_ Tarys chuckled.

For the remainder of the night the two exchanged stories. first Tarys told Astraia about each of the locations she’d asked about, he had no reason to deny her and he could feel how excited she was about learning all that. Tarys shared her curiosity and similarly demanded stories about Korriban and life in the Empire. Tarys decided he enjoyed her company, ethereal or otherwise. She told a hell of a story, to the point he found it difficult to stay quiet and stop himself from laughing. It _was_ the middle of the night on Tython and everyone else was asleep after all.

It was definitely strange, normally when you talked to someone you had to gauge how they felt from their expressions, or occasionally the Force gave you an insight, but with Astraia Tarys could tell exactly what she was feeling, and he knew she could tell how he felt too. It was hard to remember that this was a Sith Acolyte he was dealing with. She seemed so sincere and nice and funny and the opposite of what he expected a Sith to be.

All of a sudden Astraia stopped speaking in the middle of her sentence. Tarys couldn’t even remember what it was about.

_“I can still tell what your emotions are you know. I can tell you’re conflicted about speaking to me. And guilty about not listening to a word I was saying. Regarding feeling conflicted about talking to me: don’t be. I don’t mean you any harm. You’re a nice change of pace from all the bloodthirsty Acolytes around me. We should definitely use mental shields going forward though, don’t know about you but I’ll go mad if I have you constantly chatting up there._

_“Mental shields, I forgot about those, thanks. And yeah, I know, it’s just… I feel like we should be at odds. I’m a Jedi Padawan, is it right for me to be talking to you like this?”_

_“I don’t see why not. I did save your life so I can’t be all that bad right? How are the wounds doing by the way?”_

_“I know that, but the Order doesn’t. they won’t trust me if they know I have a Sith in my head. And thanks for that again, they’re getting better, I should be good as new in a couple of days.”_

_“So don’t tell them. We both know I’m not trying to make you “fall” or anything so they don’t need to know. Besides, you said you trust your Master. She’s the Grand Master right? Everyone has to listen to her anyway.”_

_“The Order isn’t like that. Even if she is the Grand Master, the Council still has significant power. But I guess you’re right, I won’t tell anyone, for now. At least until we figure out exactly what’s going on, then I’ll talk about it with Master Satele.”_

_“That’s fair, but make sure she won’t… I don’t know, give you up to the Republic so they can interrogate me through you or something.”_

_“The Republic wouldn’t do that! That’s awful!”_

Tarys didn’t even try to hide how repulsed he was by the thought.

_“Oh? Well, I’m glad to hear that I guess.”_

_“Anyway I’m gonna need some sleep now, it’s almost sunrise.”_

_“You let me keep you up that long? Go to sleep you fool, and have a big cup of caf when you wake up, you’ll need it.”_

_“What are you, my mother?”_

_“Just close your bloody eyes.”_

Tarys tried reaching out to Astraia after he had done that, just to check if she was still there, but was met with silence. She either had put up mental shields or chose to ignore him. Either way, he had plenty to do the following day and thankfully Master Satele assured him he had the day off, both to recover physically and to decompress after a mission like Cademimu.

As usual, Tarys was woken by the bright sunlight crashing in through his window, except this time he was hopelessly tired and he’d only just gotten up. Tarys stood in front of his mirror, his hair always did look strange when the braid was undone, it was very lopsided, with only some of it on one side being significantly longer than the rest. After showering and redoing his Padawan braid, Tarys did his morning meditation, trying to expunge any stress he had about the possibility that his connection to Astraia was permanent, albeit unsuccessfully.

Tarys immediately set off for the Archives afterwards. Thankfully, Master Gnost-Dural had been diligent in leading the reconstruction of the knowledge lost on Coruscant and now, a decade after the Sacking of Coruscant, Jedi on Tython had access to most of the knowledge that was lost. If the Force was with him, Tarys should be able to find what he was looking for.

Tarys approached the librarian’s desk and asked if he could be led to entries about Force bonds and moments later he was standing in front of several datapads on the subject. He decided the best method was to see records of known Force bonds in the past and see if any of them matched what he had with Astraia. He read and read and read and nothing, not one mention of a Force bond that caused the transmission of images and clear thoughts over such a long-range so quickly after forming until…

 _“Did you_ really _just think ‘Revan we meet again’?”_

His discovery was made all the sourer by his mental companion’s mockery.

_“Do you or do you not want to know what I’ve found out?”_

_“You realise I can read your thoughts right? What did we say about mental shields?”_

_“If I knew you were going to be this invasive I’d have locked my mind up tighter than a vault.”_

_“Look, I just want to know what’s going on, just like you do. But I agree, Revan and Bastila’s Force bond sounds familiar doesn’t it? Images, ridiculously long-range communication… they had the whole lot… just like us. I guess that makes this a Force bond.”_

_“I guess it does. I did just find something interesting about breaking them though. If someone were to sever the relationship that led to the bond being formed in the first place, then the bond should go too.”_

_“Problem being, we had no relationship until yesterday.”_

_“Exactly.”_

_“There are worse people to be stuck with I guess. promise not to annoy each other too much until we figure out what started this?”_

_“Deal. Besides, last night_ was _pretty fun even if I still feel dead.”_

What followed was excruciating silence.

_“Wait wait wait, I didn’t mean-sorry I just meant-”_

_“Got it.”_ She interrupted him.

Tarys felt his face flush red and Astraia’s own overwhelming embarrassment.

 _“Anyway, given our new… arrangement, how about we keep mental shields up, really up, from now on? Only contact each other if we need to?”_ Tarys offered.

_“Sounds good, but how would we go about contacting each other though, given the mental shields?”_

_“Uhh… shout into the Force?”_

_“Somehow that is less stupid than it sounds. It’s as good an idea as any, it works for me.”_

_“Great. I guess this is it then. Till next time.”_

_“Bye,_ Padawan _.”_ She said his rank like it was almost a slur. He knew she was joking but she wasn’t getting away with it.

 _“Hey, you do_ not _get to say that in that tone!”_ But it was too late, he could no longer feel her presence, and his rebuke fell on deaf ears. By the time he was done with his research, the time had come for his afternoon meditation and he used it as a chance to not only calm down, but to reflect.

So much had changed so quickly. He was sent on his first major mission on his own, well, effectively on his own and became Force bonded to a Sith acolyte. Truth be told, the future scared him. He didn’t know what was going to happen, was he prepared? _It’s okay,_ he told himself. He’d faced Ortol and many of his soldiers and won, even if he had help. He’d faced _him_ and lived. Tarys had to be ready, he had to, too many people believed in him for him to fail.

No matter how much he tried to reassure himself though, the doubt remained, all of his accomplishments, every single thing he’d achieved as a Padawan, it was only because he had people supporting him, there was nothing he did himself. Alone, he was weak. Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Hello there, I could feel your frustration from all the way over there, you alright?” It was Ishra’s familiar voice.

“I’ve had enough of people “feeling” my emotions to last me a lifetime, thanks,” Tarys snapped.

“That’s a new one. Come on, talk to me. Your meditation clearly isn’t going great.”

Tarys sighed deeply, “I’m sorry.” The two left the meditation chamber and walked around the Temple grounds as Tarys told her all about what had happened the past few days. He trusted her completely, she wouldn’t tell anyone. By the time he finished his retelling, the two of them sat on a rock, facing a large lake brimming with clear water, revealing the fish that swam in it. If nothing else, Tython did not lack for idyllic views.

“So that’s… something. I’ve got to say Tarys, that is _not_ what I was expecting when I asked you to talk to me but I’m glad you did. So, you have no clue why you have a bond with her?”

“None,” Tarys chuckled. He didn’t dare tell her, but he was glad he was able to keep in contact with Astraia, something about her just drew him in. In the few conversations they’d had, he came away laughing at a story or grimacing at a cruel jibe. Either way, he always left wanting to know more about her. “What about you though? Master Yuon keeping you busy?”

“Oh there’s no end to it,” she laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, I love every second of learning about our past, Tython is so rich in history. But there’s only so much a girl can take before needing a break. I’m jealous, you get to go on missions across the galaxy and come back to rest while I’m here digging through dirt to find ancient artefacts without so much as seeing a spaceship.”

“I _literally_ just told you about how I nearly died,” Tarys mocked offence. “But I’m glad to hear you’re doing something you enjoy. But it does worry me, the Empire getting involved like that. Do you think they’ll break the treaty?”

Ishra’s brow creased, revealing the cogs turning in her mind. “I can’t say. I think the Council thinks so though. Master Yuon told me to prepare to be a Knight soon, I think it’s because they want as many fighters on the field if the war starts up again. I can’t see why she’d rush my training if that’s not it.”

“Maybe because the prodigy is another step closer to becoming the ‘greatest Jedi of our time’,” Tarys mimicked Master Yuon, making air quotes with his fingers.

“Hey, you say that like I’m leaps and bounds ahead of you,” She laughed.

“You won the tournament, you know,” Tarys said. 

“That was six years ago!”

“So?” He grinned and shrugged as if that didn’t invalidate his argument.

“So you got better since, remember we had a serious sparring match before… you know. I’m sorry,” Her face darkened, he knew what she was talking about.

“It’s alright, let’s just drop it, okay?” Tarys offered, feigning a sympathetic smile as best he could.

Two years ago. Even thinking about that year made Tarys’s hands start quivering. He banished the thought from his head and listened to Ishra when she spoke again.

“Has Master Satele said anything about when you’re gonna cut the braid?”

“She has, same as you really, I think she feels it too… there’s war in the air. I don’t know if I’m ready, I’m not like you, there’s still so much I have to learn, I need to get so much better, I’d be more of a liability than an asset on the battlefield,” Tarys hated that it was true, but it was. He wasn’t good enough, not as good as Ishra.

“Nonsense. You come back from a mission where you fought against dozens of soldiers and a skilled general with only one ally and you say you’d be a liability. I swear Tarys, if I didn’t know you I’d say you were delusional,” she scoffed, screwing her face into a frown.

“Come on, we’ve had this conversation before. I think you’re wrong, there’s just no way I’m a good enough Jedi to be a Knight, and I’m not sure if I ever will be.” Part of him wanted words of reassurance, that part wanted Ishra to tell him he was wrong, that he would make a good Knight.

“Stop this ridiculous self-pity. You and I both know you’re more capable than you give yourself credit for, whether you see that or not doesn’t change the fact that you are, so either stop moping or do something about it, I’ve missed the competition anyway.”

Tarys opened his mouth to retort but closed it again, not being able to find a fault in her reasoning. “Sure,” he said after a brief moment of silence. He needed to train harder, if he had any hope of living up to the expectations of everyone around him, from Ishra to Master Satele, they all had such high hopes, but could he meet them? He had to try, even if it seemed a lost cause.

The sombre mood overcast the rest of the conversation until Ishra received a summons from her master. She had a new task to complete - retrieve priceless ancient holoprojectors before they could be taken and presumably destroyed by Flesh Raiders. Tython’s natives were as fearsome as the name implied. In his many years living on the planet, he’d heard more than a few stories about Padawans losing themselves in the Gnarls only to be found mauled by the Raiders. Tarys himself had dealt with some before, they weren’t too difficult to beat for a more experienced fighter, but he could see why a new Padawan or Initiate would have trouble with them.

War was in the air… And not just between the Republic and the Empire. Between the Jedi and the Flesh Raiders too. The natives had become more and more aggressive in their skirmishes with the Jedi as the years went on. Hopefully, there would be a resolution soon before too many more lives were lost. _War is in the air…_ He repeated his own words to himself in his mind. If the Republic and Empire did break the treaty, did that mean that he would face Sith on the field? That he would face Astraia? The possibility of it wasn’t insignificant and he hated the very idea. It had only been two days, but in that short time, he’d come to know a Sith as more than a bloodthirsty monster. He’d come to know a Sith as a person, as someone with faults, yes, but also with great qualities that he’d see in any sentient in the galaxy, Republic or Empire.

Jedi were not supposed to hate, but Tarys allowed himself the small exception of war. He hated the war beings waged between themselves, between their friends, neighbours and even across galaxies. The Empire was cruel, he knew that much and that it needed to change but surely the deaths of billions weren’t necessary for that? Tarys clenched his jaw as he realised the futility of his thoughts. His own parents had died in the war - not on the field, no - they were assassinated. The Empire had his parents assassinated so that his father couldn’t even begin to fight against them. It wasn’t honourable. It was conniving and despicable. The Empire, its government, not its people, Tarys reminded himself, arranged the assassination of a new mother and father and stopped their little boy from ever meeting them, from having a single memory of them.

Tarys couldn’t be angry, not truly. He couldn't miss something he never had, but he wished he’d met them. They sounded exactly like the sort of people he wanted to be when he was older. Master Satele was their friend, she had revealed after a year under her wing. She’d known them for years and was even in their home the day before they were killed. Unbeknownst to him, he and his Master had met when he was just an infant sleeping in a cot; he chuckled to himself. His father was a Republic Admiral, a war hero and his mother was a writer and a prolific one at that - especially for someone as young as she was.

His mother wrote mainly about philosophy, it seemed, making it acceptable reading for a Padawan in training. She had a remarkably large body of work, the majority of which he hadn’t even seen yet, but Tarys was content in the knowledge that one day, he’d be able to sit down and read his mother’s words again. Jedi weren’t supposed to have attachments, but it couldn’t possibly be wrong to find solace in a lost parent’s writings? Part of him wished that his father was a writer too, or at least left something behind, something he could experience, something he could use to learn about him but it seemed there was nothing.

What would they think if they saw him now? Would they be proud? No. No, they couldn’t be. He was nothing to be proud of. He still had a long way to go before he became anything his parents would deign to look at - if they were present to begin with. Tarys stared up at the clear blue sky; it is said that anything is possible through the Force. Was it possible that his parents could see him through it?

It didn’t matter. Not yet. Not until he was something worth seeing. _And what is that?_ He asked himself, what did he want to be? _A good Jedi._ He answered. _What does that mean?_

He had no answer.

 _Someone who follows the Code,_ he presumed, but the Code was a puzzle. What did it even mean? Almost a decade of lessons in philosophy and all he’d learned was that it was not to be taken literally. _There is no emotion, there is peace._ Did emotion and peace truly contradict each other? Could he only have one or the other? Tarys found it hard to believe so, emotion was so ubiquitous in life, yet so was the absence of peace. Perhaps the Code was right, perhaps one needed to purge emotion to feel peace, but what was the value of life without emotion? After all, happiness, the ability to appreciate life and peace was an emotion. Would the Code have him seek a peace he couldn’t even feel? That line, that very first line had always troubled him, going back years to when he was an Initiate, it didn’t seem right.

Could Tarys truly be a good Jedi even without fully agreeing with his Order’s code?

It didn’t matter, he supposed, he was bound to it, he’d made a promise when he took his Initiate’s Trials, and Jedi didn’t break promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please leave any feedback you have and just let me know what you thought of the chapter. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> PS. My buffer of chapters is getting worryingly small - I'm gonna need to pump these out a bit faster.


	7. Raiders

### Chapter 6: Raiders

Tarys’ wrist-mounted holo rang, showing that Master Satele was calling him.

“Tarys? I need you at the Temple as soon as possible. Come as quickly as you can.” His Master sounded uneasy. Something had happened.

Not one to ignore such urgent summons, Tarys ran back to the Temple he was only in the courtyard, so it only took a few minutes to make it to the entrance where he was told that Master Satele expected him in the Council chambers. That was odd. This had to be serious, normally she’d just talk to him in her office.

Tarys never failed to note the sheer grandeur of the Council chambers, a circular table lay in the centre, allowing every Master on the Council to confer as equals while statues of revered Jedi Masters, whose true visages had been lost to history, watched down from above beneath a ceiling that was as high as the sky. In the room, he met his Master, unaccompanied by anyone else. She must’ve already been in there.

“Good, you’re here. You must make your way to the training grounds as soon as possible, the Flesh Raiders are invading and I need everyone that can be spared fighting back. I know you’re still recovering but I need you out there.” Master Satele always spared a thought for his well-being but she was right. She didn’t use the word _invasion_ lightly. If that was indeed what was happening then he needed to be out there. “Take a speeder out to the Gnarls Outpost and be ready. You’ll land in the thick of the fighting.”

He hadn’t expected that. He thought the Flesh Raiders’ violence was limited to skirmishes on the outskirts of the Jedi grounds, but to come as far as to invade… something had to have changed. The reasons didn’t matter for the moment. Tarys made his way outside and onto a speeder bike as quickly as he could, within moments he was feeling the rush of wind against his face as he raced to the Tythonian Gnarls. Ordinarily, Tarys would have taken the time to appreciate the beauty of Tython’s nature but this time he let it speed past him in a blur of green and blue as flora and water mixed into one.

The low hum of the speeder decreased until it ceased as Tarys looked outwards to assess the situation. Master Satele hadn’t embellished it - hundreds of Jedi Knights and Padawans were fighting back hordes of ravenous Flesh Raiders. The natives looked much like their Rakatan ancestors, two eyestalks protruding from the side of their head and a similar fleshy complexion united the two species but where the Rakatans exhibited grace and knowledge, the Flesh Raiders showed only unsated hunger and desire for bloodshed.

Tarys ignited his lightsabers and advanced toward a Padawan that was being set upon by three attackers. He blinked closer, wincing from the pain the action caused - his wounds from Cademimu still hadn’t fully recovered - but noticed that the Padawan was, in fact, a familiar face.

“Jodal!?” Tarys said in disbelief. He didn’t even know he was back on Tython.

“Oh good of you to join us! Now will you please stop gawking and start helping? Three flesh raiders and everything,” His friend said, pointing his blue saber at the assailants.

“Of course, I couldn’t let you get eaten could I?”

“At least I’d go down fighting, now let’s go, dammit!”

Tarys didn’t protest his friend’s suggestion, lunging forward at the Raider closest to him and impaling it with his mainhand saber, drawing a pained growl from the beast as it fell to its knees, breathing his last.

Tarys was glad Flesh Raiders weren’t sentient, not fully so anyway, it meant they didn’t know or fear the concept of death, it made delivering it much easier, as much as the Padawan hated to admit it. _Killing should never be easy._ He chided himself, echoing his Master’s words. It had been the first thing she said when he had killed his first being. He would never forget it. Tarys didn’t have time to dwell on his thoughts as a second Flesh Raider raised a vibrosword over its box-shaped head and swung at Tarys with, hopefully, less than its full strength.

Tarys just had enough time to raise his left saber to meet the vibrosword’s cutting edge, but with only one hand, he was too weak to fully block it. He blinked onto the Raider’s back, the pain of the action made him wince as he drove his saber into its heart through its back. Severing the head would have been easier, but such an act was barbaric and unnecessarily cruel. Cruelty was not the Jedi way. As the second of the three fell to the ground, and Tarys with it, Jodal landed the final strike on the third, ending the one encounter among hundreds.

The two friends gave each other a curt nod. They both knew they needed to keep fighting, to split up to find new battles to take part in. Tarys restricted his use of the Force to pushing and pulling, usually pulling a Raider into his saber, to end a fight quickly and chose not to teleport. It was simply too draining and painful in his current state. He noticed his breathing becoming more strained as he needed to stop to catch his breath more often. He really needed some more time for his wounds to properly heal, they _had_ been mortal until Astraia treated him. Regardless, he did as his Master bid him and fought on, defeating another few dozen or so Flesh Raiders until his holo rang out with the familiar sound of someone calling. He’d sustained more injuries in the fighting but nothing serious enough for him to stop.

This time it was an unidentified comaddress. Upon answering, he saw an image of a male Jedi Knight. “This is Derrin Weller, you’re the Grand Master’s Padawan, right? I don’t know where the Flesh Raiders got advanced weaponry but they know how to use them, we need to stop them at the source before we’re overrun. Another Padawan found a cave tunnel they’ve been using to enter the valley. We need someone there to make sure no more come through, and the Grand Master suggested you.”

Tarys really, truly wished for a reprieve. He was more tired than he had any right to be but there was no denying reality, both in how fatigued he was and how necessary it was to follow his Master’s instructions.

“I’ll seal it, Knight Weller, don’t worry,” Tarys confirmed between heavy breaths.

“Good to hear. You’ll find the entrance along the mountain range. May the Force be with you, Padawan.”

“And you,” he said, before immediately setting off for the cave.

He knew exactly the mountain range he referred to, it was quite the meditation spot for Jedi, peaceful and quiet, just the way they liked the places they meditated in. It took longer than if he’d teleported but Tarys considered the relative lack of pain a worthwhile trade-off, especially if he was going to have to seal a cave. The cave in question was prominent along the mountain wall, its entrance being several metres high and more importantly, lit by torches on the inside.

Contrary to what he’d expected, however, Tarys didn’t find a legion of Flesh Raiders he’d have to defeat, no matter with how much difficulty, but a Bith Padawan at the mercy of a face he recognised. The human’s countenance was decidedly rougher, older and… darker, but there was no mistaking it, this was Callef - the Padawan that went missing all those years ago.

“... Jedi, why would you kill me?” Said a Bith dressed in a Padawan’s garb.

“Because the Order must evolve, and you are weak,” Callef said with more conviction than Tarys had expected.

“Callef?” Tarys said, cautiously approaching the confrontation.

“How do you know who I am, Padawan?” Callef uttered his rank like it was an insult, spitting in the face of Jedi tradition. “It doesn’t matter. You’re dangerous, you killed my soldiers.”

His fellow Padawan explained that Callef commanded the invading Flesh Raiders.

“Not invading, cleansing. Our Order is weak, it must change and I will be the one to change it,” Callef declared as two darker-skinned and altogether more composed Flesh Raiders joined him at his side.

“Callef, this is wrong,” Maybe Tarys could make him see the folly of his actions. “Lay down your weapons, let’s talk about this.”

“And this is why the old order must fall! All you want to do is _talk_ ,” snapped Callef, turning on a blue-coloured lightsaber.

Tarys gritted his teeth, he could feel the dark side enveloping the former Padawan. He was utterly convinced of his actions, the only course of action was battle. Tarys activated his own lightsabers, it would be wise to take care of the Flesh Raiders first, there was no telling what they would do if their leader went down. Perhaps they were under Callef’s thrall and would rampage if he was defeated.

Callef was skilled, abnormally so for a Padawan, so he must have received training after he left the Temple, Tarys surmised, but from whom? The colour of Tarys’s blades were lighter than his, creating a unique azure light when the sabers clashed. He tried to disengage from Callef and made a focused strike against the Raider immediately behind him, leaving a deep, burning gash in the creature’s chest as it fell to the ground. 

_Strange._ Usually, when a comrade fell a Flash Raider would become enraged, but the other retained its already peculiar calmness. Undeterred, Tarys weaved away from Callef’s attacks. Whoever had been teaching him hadn’t been teaching him the traditional forms, Tarys noticed, and Callef suffered for it. Without knowing how to counter moves from the variety of forms Tarys had learned, Callef left himself easy to avoid so Tarys could focus on the Flesh Raider.

The Padawan employed Soresu to deflect the bolts from the Raider’s blaster until he got close enough to safely ignore it. Meeting its eyes as he made the killing blow, Tarys saw… nothing. Not anger, not any discernible emotion, just emptiness as he watched the life drain away from the Flesh Raider.

“Surrender Callef, there is always forgiveness,” Tarys declared, mustering as authoritative a voice as he could.

“No. You don’t seem to understand. You are _weak_ , Padawan. The New Order is strong and it will replace you. You are obsolete.” The vigour had not left Callef’s voice, there truly was no turning back.

Tarys readied himself once more, the toll of battle quickly threatening to defeat him if Callef didn’t. Tarys internally thanked the Force, it seemed that Callef had neglected to learn how to effectively fight a user of Jar’Kai. Sometimes Tarys was truly grateful for how unconventional he was. The fight was over quickly. Tarys was able to outmanoeuvre the former Padawan, but he still refused to surrender. 

Callef seemed to give in to his rage and abandoned any semblance of tactical planning when he bounded towards Tarys, saber overhead. Tarys retaliated by first meeting his saber with his own and quickly stepping around Callef as to not be overwhelmed by his comparatively stronger assault, causing him to lose his balance and stagger backwards. That was why you didn’t rely on your opponent for balance, even if it meant greater attacking strength. It was a basic lesson Callef seemed to forego. He was unrelenting, launching a flurry of attacks Tarys was too lucid to be hurt from, yet too fatigued to fully interrupt. Callef made an error in his footwork, leaving his side open. Tarys took what he thought could be the only opening and plunged his right-hand saber into the former Padawan.

“I’m sorry Callef,” Tarys whispered to the now lifeless body of the Padawan he was sent to investigate for his Trial. If he’d only pursued it further, if only he hadn’t been content to accept the laudations of his Masters and chased a fallen Padawan, perhaps he could have saved him. Perhaps he could’ve ended the invasion before it began. How many lives had been lost because Tarys couldn’t be bothered to see an investigation through to its end? He knew what Master Orgus said, but if he’d investigated regardless - perhaps he could have done something. Moments later the very same Jedi Master entered the cave.

“Master Orgus? What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you two. What happened?” Master Orgus answered.

The Bith Padawan relayed the events to the Master, who grew a small smile hearing about Tarys’ actions. “You did well, Tarys. I’m impressed.”

“You remember me?” Tarys was astonished.

“Well, it isn’t every day an Initiate resorts to Psychometry to complete his Trial. Still, I can’t believe this is where he was hiding. Callef was right under our noses, and leading Flesh Raiders no less. I warned the Council they weren’t mindless beasts, and this is proof. And this lightsaber of his… there’s something familiar about it, strange,” Master Orgus reflected, inspecting Callef’s lightsaber. “Anyway, we need to make sure no more Flesh Raiders get through.”

Tarys agreed, and the Jedi Master walked toward the dark opening in the cave that led further inwards, presumably to wherever the Flesh Raiders were based, and effortlessly used the Force to cause the opening’s collapse. For Tarys that would’ve been a monumental feat, one that would’ve taken the last few bits of energy he had left. He saw why Jedi Masters were called such, they truly were incredible.

“That should hold them back, for now. Tarys, you should report back to the Temple,” Master Orgus told him.

“I’m injured Master Orgus. Are the training grounds safe to travel?” asked the Bith Padawan.

It was true, he was in a far worse state than Tarys. The Padawan could barely stand as it was, he wasn’t sure that, even if the grounds were safe, the Bith would get there in one piece before he collapsed on his own.

“Not yet, I’ll get you to a medcentre,” the Master responded, recognising the Padawan’s pain.

Tarys nodded the two farewell and set off for the Temple. He felt bad about not being able to stay and fight more but any more exertion and he was going to be more of a liability than anything, and that was easily worse than sitting out so he made no protest. His fellow Jedi seemed to get the situation under control quickly enough once the continuous flow of Flesh Raiders finally ended with Master Orgus’ sealing of the cave. As a result, getting back to the Temple was a thankfully uncomplicated process and as soon as he was back he went to speak to Master Satele, who was meditating in her chambers.

“Master? I was told to report back,” Tarys said, quietly. It was good etiquette not to interrupt another Jedi’s meditation, and when it was necessary to do so, in as unobtrusive a method as possible.

“Welcome back, Tarys. I have to say I’m impressed the Temple is already buzzing with accounts of your heroism in the training grounds,” she said, standing up from her meditative pose.

“Heroism is generous, Master, I wasn’t even at my best. Turns out fighting when you’re fully recovered isn’t a great idea,” Tarys said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“And yet Master Orgus sent word ahead that you fought the Flesh Raiders and Padawan Callef. He was the one from your trial, wasn’t he? That must’ve been a disturbing confrontation. Are you alright? I’m sorry again for sending you out before you were ready,” she replied, the sympathetic smile he was so accustomed to appearing on her face.

“A little shaken, I’m not going to lie. He was the last person I was expecting, but I’ll manage. I wish I didn’t kill him though. Maybe I could’ve returned him to the light,” Tarys looked down, he couldn’t possibly look Master Satele in the eye with his failure.

“It’s not your duty to do so. Taking a life affects the Living Force - and the one who does the killing. It’s why we enter battles calmly, with reason. Emotions like anger - even toward yourself - lead to the dark side. I’ve told you this before, Padawan.” She always invoked his rank when she had a lesson to teach him, like somehow that made it more serious, although, in a way, it did.

“I know… It’s just-” Tarys took a deep breath. “There is no emotion, there is peace.”

“Exactly. I know it’s hard, but I’m glad you find it difficult, as strange as it sounds. Taking a life should never be easy. I’m proud of you. You did superbly today but your job’s not over yet. Meet me in the Council chambers in about an hour. You should spend that time in the medbay.”

“Thank you, Master, I will.”

The first time she suggested the medbay he’d dismissed it, insisting he was fine. Boy he was wrong. It was incredible what forty minutes of treatment from a healer Jedi could do. He was as good as new by the end of it, just a little fatigued but still worlds better than he was before.

When he entered the Council chambers this time, Master Satele was conspicuously missing. Perhaps she would make her entrance later. Instead, other Masters populated the seats. Master Orgus and the Togruta Master Bela Kiwiiks, as well as her Padawan Kira Carsen, were present physically and with Masters Tol Braga and Jaric Kaedan transmitting in by holo. They were discussing how a former Padawan could go about becoming the leader of an army of Flesh Raiders. The question had no obvious answer.

Then, the Grand Master of the Order made her entrance and took her seat on the table, giving a short nod of greeting in Tarys’s direction. “The Flesh Raiders were disorganised primitives before today and the safety of the Temple is unexpectedly threatened because that’s changed.”

“Right. They had proper weapons and fought like an army. It’s more than unusual - there has to be a reason for it,” Tarys chimed in.

“Callef most likely wasn’t acting alone,” Master Orgus surmised.

Master Satele’s brows furrowed as she raised her hand to her face in contemplation. “Too much of Tython remains unexplored. We do not have the resources to spare for an investigation.”

“We have to do something,” stated Master Orgus.

Tarys addressed the full Council himself, this time. “What if Master Orgus and I investigated? We’re already familiar with Callef, and he supervised my final Trial. We can spare two people, right Master?” Maybe by doing so, Tarys could make up for not pursuing Callef’s case all those years ago, maybe this could be something of an atonement.

“That could work,” Master Satele considered. “Master Orgus, what do you think?” 

“I’m all for it. Let’s see what sort of Padawan you turned out to be, hmm?” He flashed a broad smile.

“Then it’s settled. Tarys, your next mission will be to work with Master Orgus to learn why the Flesh Raiders have become suddenly so advanced, and put a stop to the threat,” Master Satele briefed him. Tarys had done a few missions before with other Masters but never one so monumental and important to the Order. The Temple’s safety rode on his performance.

“Yes Master, thank you.”

“Padawan, go downstairs to my chambers and take some of my equipment, I’ll meet you there,” Master Orgus instructed as the other Masters continued discussing.

Tarys made his way down to Master Orgus’ chambers and did as he was told, taking a few stim packs and putting them in pockets in his utility belt, they always were useful and if recent experiences told him anything, he’d need them. The Padawan waited until he started to grow impatient, then waited some more until he resorted to meditating to fill the time. A sense of serenity washed away the anxiety he felt, but not the guilt. It was his fault that a Flesh Raider army now invaded the Temple. He’d helped beat them back but they should not have attacked to begin with. Tarys’ complacency and inaction were what caused this - he should have found Callef, his trial wasn’t complete.

Finally, after an eternity-long wait, Master Orgus made his way down and approached Tarys.

“Blast those Council meetings, I’d die of old age before my colleagues ran out of things to say,” Master Orgus lamented.

“I’ve attended enough with Master Satele to know the feeling, just don’t tell her I said that,” Tarys laughed as he made his confession.

“Your secret’s safe with me Padawan. I’m glad you suggested this, I would have hated to not investigate further. I should’ve made you my Padawan after the Tournament, before Master Satele got the chance to,” the Jedi Master gave a hearty laugh to match Tarys’ own.

“I was pretty adamant that Master Satele took me on, but I appreciate the sentiment Master, thank you,” Tarys gave him a gracious smile.

“It’s no problem. I’m glad that you found a Master suited for you, but I’ll get to the heart of it. There’s a group of Twi’lek pilgrims on Tython. They’ve been fighting the Flesh Raiders for months. The Republic asked us to deny those Twi’leks aid - they settled here illegally - but frankly, we need them,” Master Orgus explained.

“The Republic asked us to _deny_ aid? Why would they do that? Jedi are meant to help those in need,” Tarys asked, incredulous.

“When Tython was first rediscovered, the Twi’leks petitioned the Senate to settle here. They were denied but they settled anyway, so the Republic doesn’t acknowledge that they’re here. They live in a village in the mountains. You need to go there and establish contact, try to learn everything they know about the Flesh Raiders. The knowledge they have could be invaluable. I’ll warn you, their matriarch is not our biggest fan, can’t say I blame her,” the Master continued.

“The Republic just pretends the settlement isn’t there? Isn’t that cruel?”

“Depends how you look at it, if they followed the law then they wouldn’t even be here and they wouldn’t need help, but I understand where you’re coming from. Seeing as we need them, feel free to help them however you want. We’ll consider it Jedi business - the Republic can’t say no to that.”

Tarys smiled, “Thank you, I’ll get going now.”

The journey itself was a relatively simple one. Having a map of all of the explored planet mounted onto his wrist was truly a blessing for navigation. The village itself was small, containing only a hundred or so Twi’lek pilgrims, but they had built their foundations to last, they were proper homes and their farms extended to as far as the eye could see. Their fortifications weren’t lacklustre either, for a settlement of that size. The few turrets and armed soldiers they had seemed appropriate but even Tarys recognised they wouldn’t be able to put up much of a defence against violent Flesh Raiders.

Tarys guided himself to the Matriarch's home, instantly recognisable among the other, significantly smaller buildings in the village. Inside, he was met by three Twi’lek, an orange man and two green-skinned women, one of whom wore regal robes - the Matriarch, he figured.

“Greetings, Matriarch. The Jedi Council has sent me to help you fight the Flesh Raiders,” Tarys said.

“So the Jedi finally deign to recognise my people’s suffering? How noble.” The Matriarch practically spat the final word. Master Orgus didn’t lie. She was bitter, rightly so perhaps, but still bitter. 

Part of him wanted to tell her that the Jedi were under commands from the Republic not to help, but he knew to compromise the Republic’s reputation made for a poor Jedi so he restrained himself. Hopefully, he’d be able to change the Twi’lek’s mind through his own actions.

“Nothing to do with the attack on your grounds, I’m sure,” she continued.

Tarys was surprised she knew about that, the Twi’leks were better connected than he thought. Still, there was no use in withholding the truth on a mission to build trust.

“I won’t lie Matriarch, it does - we didn’t realise how great of a threat the Flesh Raiders had become and we’ve paid the price.” Hopefully, she could see how much he wanted to help. He just needed the chance.

“So now you seek help from the people you once ignored,” her tone was still poisonous. The Jedi really had ignored them and for too long.

“We do. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for my Order’s actions, hopefully helping now will go towards earning your forgiveness,” Tarys said solemnly. He was probably overstepping his bounds as a Padawan but the Twi’lek village had earned the right to be scornful of the Jedi.

“A trainee’s apology _isn’t_ worth much, but I’ll take it regardless.” She wasn’t really thanking him, the glare she gave revealed it was more of a veiled insult but she continued nonetheless. “My scouts have tracked the Flesh Raider for months. Watched them grow in strength. I will share what we have discovered, but only if you agree to protect my people. We… we suffer…”

The Twi’lek matriarch suddenly staggered, losing her footing and nearly falling to the floor before the other woman was able to quickly step in and provide support. 

“Mother, you need rest. Let me carry this burden for you,” she whispered, almost too quietly to hear.

“Will the matriarch be alright? Does she need a doctor?” Tarys expressed his concern.

“Thank you, but we have our own healers here,” the Matriarch’s daughter replied.

“This is my daughter Jedi, Ranna Tao’Ven, she and Scout Chief Moorint here will speak for me. I must attend to… other matters…” The Matriarch finished before her daughter guided her away. The ‘other matters’ must’ve been recovery. She was too proud to even admit her condition.

The Scout Chief approached him after the Matriarch had left, “Personally, I don’t care why you’ve come - as long as you destroy the Flesh Raiders. Ever since they got their new weapons and gear, they hunt us like animals.” Thinking of his own people as little more than target practise clearly hurt the man’s pride, although Tarys couldn’t blame him - seeing your people reduced to fodder would be painful for anyone, that was why Tarys needed to put a stop to it however he could.

“Tell me what I can do to help and I’ll do it,” Tarys offered.

“The enemy has a camp in the valley nearby. My scouts say the Flesh Raiders store their weapons and other tech in a cave,” Moorint explained. He didn’t say so, but he obviously wanted Tarys to deal with the cache of equipment.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it, removing the tech will go a long way to neutralising the Flesh Raiders” Tarys assured him.

“Taking care of it won’t cut it, we need to strike fear into the Flesh Raiders. Sabotage their weapons. Fix it so they blow up in their ugly faces…” The Twi’lek clenched his fist so hard Tarys thought he was going to draw blood.

Ranna Tao’Ven joined them again, quickly enough to hear Moorint’s suggestion, “How would we do that?”

“I’ve seen the technology they use, they’re standard Republic design. Overloading the power circuits and plasma coils would make them explode,” Tarys explained.

“That’s right, sabotage would thin the Flesh Raider numbers and eliminate their technological advantage,” the Scout Chief agreed, nodding in Tarys’ direction.

“But if you brought that technology here, we could defend ourselves with those weapons,” Ranna countered.

“I’m with Miss Tao’Ven on this one. The weapons would be better used by the villagers, blowing them up for some perceived psychological advantage is a waste,” Tarys voiced his opinion.

“Please, just call me Ranna,” the matriarch’s daughter corrected.

“Anyway, the debate is pointless unless you can get inside that cave. You’ll need one of the leaders’ access keys,” Moorint interjected.

“I agree, find the technology and do what you think is best. Thank you for helping us, Master Jedi,” Ranna finished.

 _Master Jedi._ Tarys had been referred to that on missions before but it never failed to take him slightly by surprise. He was only a Padawan yet most people didn’t really care about the difference in rank so long as a Jedi was there to help, but among the Jedi with whom he lived, the word ‘Master’ carried much weight so to hear it used on himself… it was a strange feeling.

Tarys left the village and set off to find this cave. It shouldn’t be hard to find, just follow the Flesh Raiders back through the valley to wherever they got their weapons. The cave itself wasn’t too far and the few Flesh Raiders along the path didn’t pose much trouble for Tarys now that he was mostly healed. As he walked through the valley he recognised the terrain - this was Tythos Ridge. Not many people ventured out here simply because there wasn’t much reason to do so. The ground was dry and cracked and little vegetation grew in the area, especially compared to the lush and diverse variety of plants closer to the Temple and even the Masters’ Retreat.

Ramshackle buildings adorned the paths. Perhaps they belonged to the Raiders? It must’ve been so as just next to one such construction lay what Tarys presumed was the open mouth of the cave he was looking for. He cautiously entered the cavern, following the dim light he saw inside. The cave was full of them. It was a small space but that didn’t stop over a dozen Flesh Raiders from congregating in it, all armed and all certainly dangerous.

It didn’t matter though, he had given his word that he was going to help the Twi’lek villagers and this wasn’t going to stop him. Tarys still held the element of surprise so he carefully drew one of his lightsabers and pressed the button, being wholly aware of the low hum of the blade - hopefully, it wasn’t loud enough to give him away.

With Force-enhanced precision and strength, Tarys threw the saber like a javelin, a feat only possible because of the fact that the plasma blade held no discernable weight, toward the neck of the closest Flesh Raider. While the saber flew through the air, Tarys teleported into blinking range of another enemy, enjoying the distinct lack of pain this time around. As soon as he saw the blade make impact Tarys blinked into the scene and Force Pulled the hilt of his weapon back to his right hand, ready to fight.

The next few minutes were a blur as he spun and danced around the Raiders’ attacks, trying to pick them off one by one.

_“TARYS!”_

_What in the?_ Then he remembered he had a Sith girl in his head.

 _“Okay, you’ve got me. No more shouting, also, not the best time.”_ He thought, lowering his mental shields and parrying the latest attack from a Raider’s vibrosword.

_“Wait… are you fighting? Shoot, sorry, I’ll talk another time.”_

_“No, it’s all good. Keep going, this isn’t too hard anyway,”_ For some reason, Tarys had the urge to embellish his actions, he wanted to look as good as possible in front of her, he didn’t quite know why but he knew he wanted to impress her. 

_“Show off. Don’t care if it’s a toddler you’re fighting, tell me when you’re done. Actually, don’t fight toddlers.”_ said the strange, feminine disembodied voice in his mind.

 _“Damn, there go my plans for the weekend.”_ Tarys retorted as he plunged his saber into the torso of the penultimate Flesh Raider.

He raised his forearm to his brow, wiping away the accumulated sweat before he faced the final Flesh Raider. Like the ones that accompanied Callef, this one was darker-skinned with white markings on its body but unlike them, it wore a great deal more clothing, something Tarys decided he was very glad about.

Fighting it, while not difficult, was definitely a change of pace for the Padawan. This Raider had skill, likely proper training and it showed. Still, in a duel between a newly trained Flesh Raider with a vibrosword, and a lightsaber-wielding Padawan with years of experience, the Padawan won - and quickly. Fortunately for him, this particular Raider seemed to be leading the group in the cave and carried a key, presumably for the massive cache of weapons behind it.

Tarys sent a ping through his holo to that of Ranna, who’d given her own before he left the village.

“Ranna? I secured the cache, I’ll start heading back, it’s safe to send your people down here to collect the weapons,” Tarys spoke into his wrist.

“It is? Thank you, thank you so much. We’ll speak more when you get back here, I’ll send people down now,” the Twi’lek’s voice was slightly marred by static but he received her reply well enough to hear.

Then he heard the buzzing of a droid as it approached him, an astromech droid. What was it doing here? In classic droidspeak, that was the beeps and trills characteristic of astromech droids, it told Tarys that it was T7-01, and that it was captured by Flesh Raiders after trying to scout the wilderness and its sensors were malfunctioning due to a faulty restraining bolt. More importantly, it was able to record ‘allies’ of the Flesh Raiders after its capture.

Playing back the holotape, he saw a hooded figure speaking to Callef and one of his Raider companions.

“Teach our soldiers how to use these weapons. Train them on the Twi’lek invaders,” said the hooded figure, whose deeper voice identified him as male.

“When will we strike against the Jedi?” inquired the fallen Padawan.

“Patience, Callef. The Jedi will fall when our army reaches full strength.”

Then the blue light of the recording fizzled out as the droid addressed him once more,

“T7 recording = useful // Jedi = take T7 to safety + remove restraining bolt.”

Tarys couldn’t possibly turn down a request like that. He knelt down undoing the restraining bolt. “I never really understood the need for them to begin with, what harm could you do?” 

“Restraining bolt removed = increased T7 scanning range // Flesh Raiders = in big trouble now,” the droid said, conveying enthusiasm.

“Damn right they are,” Tarys was hard-pressed to agree.

Taking the droid with him, Tarys made his way back to the Twi’lek settlement and made his way back into the Matriarch’s abode. He walked in to see a blue-skinned Twi’lek man lamenting to Ranna and Master Orgus,

“She died in my arms. You should’ve seen what those filth did to her,” he growled.

“I’m sorry Saylew. We all share your loss,” Ranna comforted in what Tarys had learned was her characteristic compassionate tone.

“For every one of us the Flesh Raiders butcher, we should kill ten! No, a hundred!” Saylew fumed.

Tarys didn’t believe in answering death with death, but he couldn’t help but sympathise with the man’s plight. Jedi were not supposed to get attached but even he had people he cared about, friends, teachers and others who he’d more than mourn were he to lose them - he couldn’t begin to understand what it would be like to lose a spouse. He assumed it was a loss beyond words.

“Will that restore your loved one to life?” cautioned Master Orgus.

This enraged the Twi’lek, “Don’t lecture me, Jedi. My wife is dead! Our people, slaughtered! Where were you then?” Where the name of their Order was spoken by reverence by Ranna, it had become an insult from Saylew - they truly hadn’t done enough.

Tarys tried his best to comfort him, “Nothing I can say will make you feel whole again but we are doing everything we can.”

“What about exterminating those animals?”

“Saylew, this Jedi brought us the Flesh Raiders’ weapons so we can defend our homes,” Ranna informed him.

“Then give me those weapons. We’ll hunt down the Flesh Raiders. We’ll have retribution,” demanded Saylew.

Tarys couldn’t allow another to die chasing revenge. “No. You’re upset, I understand that, but the last thing you need is a weapon. Let me handle the Flesh Raiders, they’ll be defeated but I won’t let you die before we do.”

“Your wife wouldn’t want you to die for revenge. I promise we’ll stop these attacks,” Ranna said.

“Fine, just make sure those bastards pay for what they’ve done,” he grumbled in reply.

Ranna led him out of the building as Master Orgus turned to speak to Tarys, “Well done, Padawan. He may not feel better, but at least he’ll stay out of trouble.”

“Thank you, Master, I do feel bad for him though - no one should feel the pain of losing someone close to them before their time,” Tarys said, looking out to the door where Ranna still spoke to Saylew.

“People wonder why Jedi are forbidden to marry or have families. They don’t see how attachments always lead to suffering. Passionate emotions can destroy a person - and Jedi destroyed by passion become something terrible,” warned Master Orgus.

“Still, for those that do have it, it must be a wonderful thing, and then to have it ripped away…” Tarys trailed off.

“Don’t get any ideas Padawan,” laughed the Master.

“What? Of course not,” Tarys rebuked. 

_Of course not._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About bloody time we started the Jedi Knight's story!  
> Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long.
> 
> Also, thank you so much to everyone who leaves comments! I really appreciate them (even if I keep forgetting to reply), it's really great to know people are reading and what you guys think! Of course, constructive criticism is more than welcome, I'd love to know how I can improve as a writer - since you know, I'm so new to it all haha.
> 
> PS. Currently planning out the first chapter from Astraia's PoV.


	8. Doubt

### Chapter 7: Doubt

Just as Tarys drifted off into thought, T7 approached Master Orgus. “T7 = salutes Master Orgus // T7 reconnaissance report = ready for delivery.”

“Teeseven here was captured by the Flesh Raiders, Master. You’ll want to see the holorecording he got,” Tarys explained.

“Oh? Interesting. While I deal with the droid, go talk to Ranna. I think her people are ready to help us, thanks to you,” the Master instructed.

“Will do.”

As soon as he approached the matriarch’s daughter, she came to speak to him herself. “Thank you, with the weapons and technology you brought from the Flesh Raiders, my people can defend themselves.”

“Of course, it was the least I could do after you were ignored for so long,” Tarys replied.

“I mean it. You risked your life to help us. My people haven’t had a champion in some time,” she continued.

“We Jedi have a duty to protect and defend. I’ll do it now even if my order turned a blind eye to your need.”

“And we promised to share in return for that duty,” she replied as the Chief Scout joined the conversation.

“Scouts report that Flesh Raider forces are gathering in strength. They already control the mountains around us, and now they’re invading the ruins of Kaleth. My men spotted them at the remains of an ancient shrine - close to your Jedi Temple,” Moorint explained.

“Kaleth? Not even the Jedi have fully explored the ruins,” Tarys pondered, glancing in Master Orgus’ direction.

“Indeed, it used to be a great city of Force-users and its ruins hold powers we still don’t understand,” the Master said.

“The Raiders are looking for something there,” Moorint informed.

“We can’t let them find it, whatever it is. You need to drive them back immediately. I need to take the droid back to the council. You were right, the holo was important,” Master Orgus said, placing a hand on Tarys’ shoulder and eyeing him with steely resolve. “That hooded figure in the holo - I know his voice. The situation is worse than I thought. Listen, do whatever it takes to push them out of the ruins, I’ll send reinforcements as soon as I can.”

Master Orgus was generally an easygoing man so for him to become so serious… Something important must’ve happened. Tarys wasn’t going to protest in the face of such a request.

“Yes, Master, I’ll go right away.”

Tarys had been to the Kalethi ruins once or twice before, he had no doubt Ishra spent a lot of time there though, in fact, it was possible she was there right now, given what her Master told her to do when they last saw each other. In any case, he wanted to use the journey as a chance to see if he could speak to Astraia, calling out to her in his mind.

_“Oh, I can see how that can be surprising. Muffled but still loud as a shout ought to be. I take it now’s a better time? Or are you still fighting toddlers?”_

_“No I beat them all, now I’m after the puppies,”_ Tarys chuckled.

 _“At least give the children a proper burial!”_ Astraia complained.

_“Yeah but that involves effort and respect for the dead, you know I can’t have that.”_

_“I don’t know you well enough to definitively say that I do, that was very morbid.”_

_“You started it! It was a weird joke to begin with.”_ At least she could have understood it was her fault, surely.

 _“Agreed. Let’s move on. Hey , now that you’re here… I just wanted to talk to someone and the Jedi Padawan stuck in my head seemed as good as anyone, that okay?”_ she asked.

_“Sure, not like I have any other Sith in my mind to speak with. What’s up?”_

_“I just… I just wanted to vent.”_

This was… unusual, but unusual didn’t mean she didn’t deserve the chance, if she was just looking for a listening ear, Tarys could provide that - he hoped this wasn’t some Sith manipulation tactic and he hoped, even more, he wouldn’t fall for it.

 _“I feel like I’m just being used as a tool. And don’t get me wrong, that’s not the problem, I’m used to it by now but I never thought I’d have to assassinate a Darth for my master… and I think it’s just so she has me as a scapegoat. I hope you realise by now that I’m no fan of killing, so being asked, no,_ told _to kill someone just to fulfil my Master’s political ambitions… It rubs me the wrong way,”_ she bemoaned.

 _“There is so much there that I want to ask about, I don’t mean to pry.”_ Maybe ‘just’ a listening ear wouldn’t work here.

_“Go for it, I guess.”_

_“What did you mean when you said you’re used to being used? That sounds awful.”_ It was almost definitely wrong of him to ask but his curiosity beat him.

 _“I guess I was looking forward to someone not knowing… Do you promise not to judge me if I tell you? I don’t want another person looking down on me,”_ she sounded hesitant.

_“I don’t want you to tell me anything you don’t want to say, I’m fine not knowing, really. No matter what it is though, I wouldn’t look down on you - not unless you’re secretly a slavemaster or something.”_

Thankfully his quip drew a quiet chuckle from her, _“Sort of the opposite actually. I was born a slave. I was only taken to the Academy when an overseer found I was Force-sensitive,”_ she sighed. _“Everyone, from that overseer to other acolytes have looked down their noses at me for it ever since. So you can see how I’m accustomed to being used.”_

That was far worse than Tarys could have imagined.

 _“Awful doesn’t cut it. I’m so sorry, no one should have to go through that.”_ Tarys took a pause to sort through his thoughts. _“That’s sort of incredible actually, if you don’t mind me saying.”_

 _“What do you mean?”_ her tone of voice betrayed her confusion.

_“Well, you were born a slave and yet here you are, apprenticed to a Sith Lord and with the skill to fight against dozens of soldiers alongside a certain dashing Padawan and still come out of it not a terrible person - as far as I know, anyway.”_

Shit. Did he _really_ just say dashing? Why in the name of the Force would he do that? Tarys felt the blood rushing to his cheeks as he rapidly flushed redder than a Sith’s lightsaber.

 _“A girl tells you she grew up a slave and you somehow turned it into a way to compliment yourself? It would almost be impressive if I couldn’t tell how embarrassed you are right now,”_ She made sure to take a moment to chuckle. _“I won’t hold it against you,_ too _much. That said, no one’s ever put it that way, thanks - it means a lot.”_

 _Too_ much? What had he done?

_“Can we please return to the original topic before I jump into a Flesh Raider’s blaster just so this ends?”_

_“Flesh Raider?”_ she asked.

 _“I’ll explain. Your turn first though,”_ he promised.

 _“Of course, my_ dashing _Padawan,”_ she laughed, mockingly.

She was cruel, oh so cruel.

 _“So, assassinating a Darth.”_ he tried to change the topic as fast as he could.

_“Right.”_

_“That’s insane!”_

_“I know.”_

_“And you have to do it?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“That’s horrible.”_

_“I know.”_ She took a pause before speaking again. _“What about you? Tell me something happy. Are you doing any_ good _for the galaxy yet?”_

She emphasised the word ‘good’ as if he was only a child playing at being a hero, it was annoying to say the least.

_“Yes, actually, I’m currently on the way to do more ‘good’ as we speak.”_

_“Oh, how noble of you, O dashing Padawan.”_

_“You’re really milking it now.”_

_“And it's worth every second.”_

_“Can I_ please _talk about the Flesh Raiders now?”_

_“I’d rather talk about how good looking you are, but sure.”_

_“Can you not?”_ Tarys rolled his eyes.

 _“Oh I absolutely_ can _not. I just won’t not.”_

_“You’re relentless.”_

_“Thank you.” Ugh._ She sounded so satisfied.

Just as he was going to tell her about how Flesh Raiders invaded Temple grounds it struck him that telling a Sith Acolyte about the Jedi’s very home being attacked was likely not the best idea - no matter how trustworthy she seemed.

_“Basically Flesh Raiders are these big, vicious and violent descendants of the Rakata native to Tython and they’ve been terrorising this Twi’lek village and I’m on the way to the next stop on my mission to stop them.”_

_“Much more fulfilling than political assassination.”_

_“Much,”_ he agreed.

_“The life of a Jedi sounds so simple.”_

_“Then join it,”_ Tarys offered immediately, if she turned away from the Sith he’d have no reason whatsoever to be wary of her, and the Order would gain a powerful new member.

_“What?”_

_“I’m serious, name a planet, I’ll meet you there and bring you back to Tython. The Order would take you in, we’ve done it before with people who delved far deeper in the dark side.”_

_“No. I said it was simple, I didn’t say it was for me. There’s too many… limitations. Besides, I know most Sith aren’t good people but that doesn’t mean the code itself is bad. It’s important to me.”_

He expected the rejection but the small part of him that hoped for acceptance was crestfallen, _“What do you mean?”_

 _“Well… the no attachments thing bothers me, obviously, and your entire life you’re bound to serve your Council or your Chancellor or someone. It’s just not what I want,”_ she reflected.

 _“It’s not like you’re serving them against your will though, you’re free to refuse missions and to pursue whatever you’d like. And the attachments rule is just there to make sure people don’t fall to the dark side,”_ he echoed the words of every Master he’d ever spoken to about the subject. _“Besides, what_ do _you want?”_

 _“To be free, truly free. Tell me, do you know the Sith code?”_ she asked him.

 _“I don’t,”_ he confessed.

So she recited it, _“Peace is a lie. There is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, power. Through power, victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.”_

He’d never heard it before, Tarys expected something more… violent.

 _“I can see why it means a lot to you,”_ he admitted.

 _“Slave girl likes freedom,”_ she agreed.

_“But peace is a lie?”_

_“Isn’t it?”_

_“I don’t think so.”_

_“We’re about the same age, right? We were born in the middle of one of the worst wars the galaxy has ever seen and even right now, there are smaller conflicts throughout space. I’ve heard people even call this the ‘Cold War’. Just because there’s a treaty doesn’t mean there’s peace. Hell, we only met because both our factions broke it. Our entire lives have been a war, what is peace, then, if not a lie?”_

_“An ideal. Something to strive for. No one says that anything less than perfect and permanent peace is a failure, it is just something we should work towards and if we never actually achieve it - then so be it, at least we will have tried. We will have gotten a bit closer and it will have been worth it.”_ Only after saying that did Tarys realise that he had more or less paraphrased a passage from his mother’s book, bringing a wide smile to his face. She was an insightful woman.

 _“I want to believe you, I do.”_ She paused. _“And maybe one day I will. The rule against attachments is still stupid, though. I don’t think the Jedi realise what they’re missing out on by denying themselves that.”_

Tarys suddenly felt jealous beyond reason, _“And_ you _do?”_

There was a silence he hated that lasted far too long.

_“No… I’d just like to at some point. I want to have a family, strange as it sounds. Maybe even children, give them what I never had.”_

Tarys breathed possibly the biggest sigh of relief he had ever breathed.

_“A childhood?”_

_“Something like that. How did you know?”_

_“I’ve been thinking about it lately.”_

_“Have you now? Tell me about it.”_

And so Tarys told her at length about his mother’s books and how a part of him, no, how all of him wished that he’d met her and his father and just had a childhood - a normal one, anyway. They both lamented over seeing normal children with their parents and how such scenes always brought wistful smiles to their faces, to see others so happy was great but they would never feel what those children did. The Force chose them for a different life. It felt good, so _good_ , to finally give voice and sound to those feelings. He’d always felt guilty, he was very fortunate to be raised among the Jedi but to have someone with whom he could share his regrets, privileged as they may be, was a greater comfort than he realised.

 _“So, five days in and having a Sith in my head and nope, not any less strange than the other four.”_ Tarys reflected.

_“It’s different though. You can tell right?”_

Not until she’d mentioned it but she was right, it _was_ different.

_“I can’t feel your emotions anymore.”_

_“Exactly, I can just hear your voice.”_

Tarys paused to think, _“What changed?”_

 _“I don’t know, but if I were to venture a guess, I think the Force bond, how do I put this… stabilised. I don’t think it’s transmitting anything we don’t want to go across - like emotions,”_ Astraia theorised.

 _“That could make sense, remember the first night? I kept getting_ everything _. Ever since we agreed to put the shields up it’s been a lot better. Wait, that might be a better explanation. I think I still have my shields up a little bit - just habit, what about you?”_

_“The same, I think. Maybe the bond learned to work around our shields, so it’s just normal telepathy, just across a ludicrous range.”_

_“I think that’s it, it’s like what Master Satele and I have then. I can never tell what she’s feeling and I think it’s because she has her mental shields up but she can read my feelings whenever she wants too, probably because-”_

_“She’s Satele bloody Shan, that’s why,”_ she finished for him.

 _“I was_ going _to say because she’s a better Force-user, but ‘Satele bloody Shan’ works too,”_ Tarys said, doing his best to mock her accent only to raise Astraia’s ire. _“Sorry no time to listen, I just made it to the ‘next stop’, okay bye.”_

He raised his mental shields with a satisfied smile, lowering them again a few moments later once he was sure Astraia stopped trying to protest his admittedly perfect impression of her. As he stepped past a fallen stone pillar, Tarys considered the change in their bond. If they couldn’t feel each other’s emotions without willfully opening them up did that mean Astraia couldn’t feel his jealousy when she mentioned attachments? He must’ve been overthinking the second-long pause she took for something more, then.

The Force bond was a confusing thing but what worried him was that if their hypothesis was correct then the Force could adapt the bond, so maybe at one point it could become resistant to their mental shields and open the floodgates again, whether they willed it or not. It made no sense though. When it first formed it was at its strongest - he could feel exactly what she was feeling and she could feel exactly what he was feeling, then suddenly that changed due to their mind shields? Granted they only put them up after they got tired of the bombardment of thoughts from the other but right then, as Tarys warily eyed the ancient defence droids that patrolled the area, his shields were lowered, as far as he always he kept them, and yet there was nothing, not a thought, word or feeling to be had - other than from himself, of course.

 _“Astraia?”_ He said sheepishly.

_“Oh there you are, I wasn’t done with you!”_

_“Okay, as funny as this is - and it_ is _hilarious, I wanted to try something and to tell you before I probably start fighting again.”_

 _“Alright, what is it?”_ She replied slowly and deliberately, as if she expected Tarys to make another joke.

_“Let’s try keeping our shields down, to the level we usually keep them and see if we can still speak to each other without the whole ‘shouting into the Force’ thing. That way we’ll be able to tell if the bond has really changed. If it hasn’t then we should be able to feel what the other’s feeling.”_

_“Done.”_

Tarys waited a few seconds and allowed the silence to settle before breaking it again, _“Still there? Can you hear me?”_

 _“Unfortunately. Looks like you were right, the bond’s learned to work around our mental shields. I don’t have to feel_ your _smug satisfaction right now though so I consider this a win.”_

_“And I don’t have to feel yours. Really though, I feel like I’m going to be turning on my lightsaber real soon, the way these droids are looking at me, so I’ll talk later, Bye for real this time.”_

_“Goodbye, she said, to the galaxy’s most dashing Padawan,”_ she narrated herself.

Tarys clenched his jaw in annoyance before letting his frown dissolve into a reluctant smile. As irritating as she was, she was pretty funny - it was only that he just happened to be the butt of almost all her jokes. He brought his focus back to the task at hand. He’d gotten carried away talking to her during the almost hour-long trip to the Kalethi ruins. Tarys purposefully avoided the droids and ventured into a tunnel in the side of the valley where he saw the all too familiar pink hide of a Flesh Raider in his periphery.

He recognised the tunnel, Master Satele took him here early on in his apprenticeship for meditation. He didn’t know there was a shrine on the other side of it. The fight that ensued with the Flesh Raider in the inside was a quick one, for all their newfound weaponry and technology, they were still too blinded by bloodlust to react in a way that was genuinely dangerous to him and more importantly, there were only three of them. The other end of the cavern opened into a clearing, at the end of which sat the ruined remains of an ancient shrine to… _something -_ it was too far gone to be able to tell what the shrine was dedicated to.

“Jeehd-ay…” grumbled an armoured Flesh Raider that stood at the foot of the shrine.

“Did you… just call me Jedi?” Tarys was baffled. Raiders had never been able to be capable of speech.

Then he felt a strong push knocking him back into the ground.

A _Force_ push.

Flesh Raiders could now use the Force. Just great. It didn’t make sense though, as descendants of the Rakatans, they should’ve been cut off from the Force too as their ancestors had famously lost the ability to touch the Force many millennia ago.

Bouncing back onto his feet, Tarys saw the armoured Raider command its four allies to attack Tarys. And so it began. Tarys wanted to gauge the extent of the armoured one’s Force abilities so he jumped into the air and struck the ground, creating a Force-fuelled shockwave that swept through the group of Flesh Raiders and knocked them out - all but the leader, it seemed.

Tarys waited and tried to draw out the Raider, daring it to use the full extent of its power but thankfully it seemed limited to Force Push. Once he learned to expect it, Tarys was able to counter with relative ease. As he caught his breath after laying the killing blow on the Flesh Raider, Master Bela Kiwiiks and her Padawan made her way to the shrine to join him.

“Master Orgus sent us, we came as quickly as we could,” Master Bela began.

“It’s a good thing you did. This Flesh Raider… he called me ‘Jedi’ and he could use the Force. Only on a basic level, but still, it’s troubling,” Tarys stated.

“I agree, if they’re learning the ways of the Force, it won’t be on the side of the light,” the Master concurred.

“You sure made short work of this bunch, I heard you were good, but damn,” the Togruta Master’s Padawan said, pointing at the bodies of the Flesh Raiders.

“I tried not to kill them but with Flesh Raiders that’s almost a futile effort,” he confessed.

Even _he’d_ heard of Padawan Kira Carsen. He didn’t see her much, Padawans often didn’t see their peers but even at three years his junior word had reached him about Master Kiwiiks’ loudmouthed apprentice. It seemed she lived up to her reputation, even if she obviously meant no harm.

“This one carried a holocron. Strange. And it’s thousands of years old by the looks of it too. Master Orgus was right, these natives are more advanced than we realised. They’re learning how to fight us,” Master Bela said, inspecting the glowing cube.

“And he thinks he knows who’s behind it,” said Tarys.

“I gathered as much, but he had no time to explain it before sending us here. Look, I wish we could stay and help you more but your Master ordered us to Coruscant on a special mission.”

“All those bad feelings the Council’s been having? She thinks Coruscant is the source,” Kira chimed in.

The capital? It had been a while since Tarys had been back to his homeworld but if all of this led back there, then he wanted to be there too. Maybe he could convince Master Satele to let him go after this mission.

“I’m sorry to leave you but thankfully the danger has passed. Place these surveillance monitors around Kaleth before you head back, thank you,” instructed the Master, handing him a handful of small cameras.

Tarys had been hoping to return to Kalikori village and see what Master Orgus had figured out, but it looked like he had to spend a few more minutes in Kaleth before he could do so.

Running around the ruins was somewhat cathartic, and to make his task all the easier he came across Ishra, as he thought he might.

“Tarys, you will not believe what’s been happening, this is unreal,” she enthused, excitement clear in her eyes, “I’ve found the hilt of the first lightsaber, _the_ first lightsaber ever built! And I’m chasing the ghost of one of the founders of the Order, Rajivari, remember him? The one that betrayed the Order and the Council and now I’m on my way to find the Fount of Rajivari.”

“Isn’t that meant to be just a story?” Tarys questioned.

“Nope, it’s real. All of it. I couldn’t believe it either.”

“You’ve had quite the adventure,” Tarys laughed.

“Yeah, but this Twi’lek from the village is out to destroy the Order because we didn’t protect them against the Flesh Raiders. He’s dangerous, Rajivari turned him to the dark side. It’s going to be hard beating him. Master Yuon told me that you were dealing with the Flesh Raiders. Quite the challenge, how’s that going?” Ishra asked.

“It’s been tough, nothing quite like opening up six-year-old wounds from my Trials is there?” Tarys began sarcastically, then spending the better part of an hour relaying everything that had happened to far to his friend and exchanging stories about rather annoying Flesh Raiders.

“Well then, we both have our work cut out for us then don’t we?” She said, looking up into the clear blue sky. “Look at us.”

“We’re doing it, aren’t we?” Tarys said, joining her. “We’re becoming Jedi.”

“We are,” she replied, smiling broadly, as was her custom. “We’re making a difference.”

It was true. From the looks of it, both of their current tasks were important to the Order and had real consequences. On every other mission Tarys had ever undertaken, Master Satele had always been there to clean up his mess, or the messes he made didn’t even matter because the mission was so trivial, but here, on Tython of all places, he had a real responsibility to succeed. People were counting on him.

 _And I’ll fail._ He realised he had lied to himself, there was one other time, one other mission where it truly up to him to protect someone, the mess was his to fix and he failed.

Tarys failed at protecting someone, at being a Jedi. Tarys took deep, sequential breaths to calm himself before his mind drifted off any further into memories that were best kept locked.

The two parted ways. They had spent too long chatting as it was and they had just established the importance of their missions, so Tarys made his way back to the Matriarch’s home in the Twi’lek settlement and met with Master Orgus. By now, he’d travelled these routes back and forth so often that they were practically ingrained in his mind.

The Padawan walked into to find Master Orgus working on Teeseven, “Master Kiwiiks told me what you found in Kaleth, incredible. I never thought a Flesh Raider could touch the Force.” The Master stood to meet his eyes. “She thought he was learning from that holocron. I wish that were true. Remember how Callef’s lightsaber seemed familiar? It belonged to Bengel Morr… my old Padawan - and the masked figure in the holo.”

“Your old Padawan? I don’t remember you ever having one, Master,” Tarys questioned, confused.

“You wouldn’t. He was in the Coruscant Temple when the Sith attacked.” The Master’s face grew sombre, it must’ve pained him to know that his former Padawan was now working to destroy his order. “Bengel was strong in the Force… and the most gentle being I’ve ever known. For him to turn against us - he must be stopped,” he finished, with renewed conviction in his voice.

Ranna then joined them, sadness across her face too. It seemed joy was in short supply that day. “Apologies for keeping you waiting. Our people’s Matriarch - my mother - is dying.”

Ranna seemed to try to swallow her grief and act strong in the face of sorrow - an act Tarys was more than familiar with. He had never known his parents before they died but Ranna did, she deserved to spend her mother’s last moments with her - this could wait.

“Go to her, you should be at her side, Ranna,” suggested Tarys, giving her a sympathetic smile.

“You’re kind, but my mother wants me here,” Ranna shook her head as if she were telling that to herself rather than to him. “Anyway, our scouts have identified a Raider command base in the mountains.”

“Then that’s where we need to be,” Master Orgus said, looking at Tarys.

“It has an energy shield though, powered by a generator in another place entirely,” she said pointing at a location on a holomap she’d brought up.

“That’s almost three klicks away from the camp - we’ll need to split up for this, Padawan. You up for knocking out the power generator?” asked the Master.

“Of course, Master. I’ll get a head start so you’re not left waiting at the base,” Tarys confirmed.

And so Tarys was on the road once more, following a waypoint placed on his own holomap. The Raiders had gotten frighteningly organised, he didn’t want to think so, but could Orgus Din’s former Padawan really be an existential threat to the Jedi on Tython? If he was, then there was the weight of the galaxy on Tarys’ shoulders. The Padawan’s stomach sank as he contemplated the significance of his role. He’d promised his Master that he would do this - that he would take on the Flesh Raiders. But could he? _No._ Tarys was a poor excuse for a Jedi, he couldn’t protect others - he was kidding himself if he believed he could.

And yet, he had made a promise and Jedi don’t break promises.

He had to try, no matter what. No matter the insurmountable likelihood of his failure, he had to try. The people he cared about: his family, the Jedi, were at stake. _The rule against attachments is still stupid, though._ He thought about Astraia’s words to him. He couldn’t lie to himself again, he had attachments - ones he cared deeply about and ones that made him the poor excuse for a Jedi he was. _It’s to make sure people don’t fall to the dark side._ He’d told her as such but did _he_ even believe that? Someone could have attachments and not fall to the dark side right? He wanted to believe that.

Tarys didn’t like how many lives he took of late. He'd killed too many beings. He wondered if he could’ve found a different way, a better way to accomplish what he needed to, getting the weapons for the Kalikori Twi’leks and now, as he destroyed the power generator for the energy shield, standing above half a dozen dead Flesh Raiders. If nothing else though, he was glad there was no blood.

Then, the holoprojector attached to the power generator’s console lit up, producing the blue image of a Nautolan, one who wore torn and frankly threadbare Jedi robes.

“Hmm. You must be the Padawan who slaughters my people. Your misguided attacks change nothing. Your time is over,” he declared.

This had to be Bengel Morr. Tarys found it strange that he had kept and even wore old Jedi robes that basically amounted to rags. Maybe, in his own broken way Master Orgus’ former apprentice did care for the Order.

“Master Orgus is looking for you, Bengel,” Tarys informed him.

“Orgus won’t find me. I’ll find him,” he threatened. “You executed my apprentice, Callef. I can feel his death on you. I spent years training him. He was a good man, a principled man. Are you proud of yourself?” Morr’s void-like eyes were trained on Tarys’ very soul.

He didn’t want to believe that he did. Tarys wanted to believe that Callef’s death was inevitable - he refused to surrender. But no, that was wrong. Of course, he did. Tarys executed a fallen Padawan when he should’ve brought him back to the light.

“Of course I’m not proud. I never wanted to kill him, you have to believe me,” he pled, more to himself than to Morr but he pled all the same.

“You had the choice not to. You could’ve surrendered to the inevitable. Mark my words, every weak-willed so-called ‘Jedi’ on Tython is going to die and from their sacrifice, I will bring forth a new Order, one that can withstand the Siths’ advances that your Order refuses to fight,” Morr spat.

The man was in pain. To Tarys, it seemed that he did care for the Jedi - he simply had a twisted vision for what they should be. He hadn’t given in to the dark the same way Sith did. He truly saw his cause as righteous.

“Don’t give in to hatred Bengel. Let us help you,” Tarys said, offering his hand to the hologram, despite his inability to touch it.

“Help me become a coward like you? I am the only true Jedi left in the galaxy. Enjoy this victory, impostor, it’ll be your last,” Morr answered as his projection fizzled away.

The Padawan couldn’t help but feel bad for Bengel Morr as he marched back to Kalikori village, dejected. He wasn’t facing some monster bent on destroying his Order, just the shell of a man who just wished to fight back against the Empire. In his mind it made sense. Bengel had disappeared during the Sacking of Coruscant. He must’ve seen many of his closest friends and teachers perish in the assault and afterwards the Temple wasn’t even rebuilt. Even now, a decade after the fact, the bastion of the Jedi still sat in ruins, a sad memory for all who passed its walls.

Bengel Morr was wrong, there was no doubt about that but still… He meant well in his own mind. Maybe Tarys could succeed with Bengel as he had failed with Callef - maybe he could bring the fallen Jedi back to the light to fight on the side of the Order he clearly cared about.

* * *

Some time later Tarys entered the matriarch’s complex once again and found Ranna sitting, shoulders slumped, one a bench on the far side of the building’s main hall.

“I shut down the energy shield. Has there been any word from Master Orgus?” Tarys said, approaching her. Hopefully, her sullen posture was just a result of the misfortune of the whole situation her village found itself in.

“No. My mother… she found peace during your absence. I’m now Matriarch,” she answered as if saying her new title left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Oh. I’m so sorry Ranna,” he tried to comfort her, taking a seat beside her. “You don’t have to go through this alone, you know.”

She forced a faint smile, “People who say Jedi have no feelings are wrong.”

Tarys hoped those people were right, he hoped someone could have feelings and still be a Jedi; because if they couldn’t, what was he? _Impostor._ That was what Bengel Morr had called him and what his mind immediately answered with. Maybe Morr was right about him. _No,_ he told himself. Bengel Morr was a disillusioned dark Jedi, his opinions about what made a Jedi were irrelevant. That was what Tarys told himself, at least.

“You know, before he left, Master Orgus told me that Jedi believe ‘There is no death, there is the Force,’” she said, quoting the tenet of the Code he knew well. “He said you believe our essence lives on when we die and merges with the Force. I hope that’s true.”

“So do I,” Tarys agreed, laying his hand on her forearm.

In the warm silence that followed a female villager ran into the building, practically shouting at Ranna. “Matriarch! Flesh Raiders broke through our defences. They did something to our crop fields!” She announced, stopping to catch her breath. “They dropped strange machines in the soil. When a scout approached one, he collapsed with sickness. Once he crawled away he began to recover but there’s many more machines still out there.”

Biological warfare? Tarys assumed the machines carried some sort of toxin, an airborne spore or something of the sort. That was something he did not expect Bengel Morr to resort to. ‘ _The only true Jedi left in the galaxy.’_ That’s what he had called himself. No, Jedi respected life, in all forms, they killed only as a necessity and certainly not by using nature to destroy itself. Bengel Morr was no longer a Jedi - not even if he thought himself one.

“Ranna, tell your people to stay away from the fields. I’ll get rid of these things,” he told her, standing ready to leave the building. With Master Orgus still away, Tarys was the only one in the village qualified to deal with the new threat.

“Be careful. If the poison is too much, save yourself, Master Jedi.”

“Please Matriarch, it’s just Tarys,” he emphasised her new title in an effort to let her know that despite what she might have thought, it did belong to her.

Stepping outside Tarys saw them immediately. A horde of Flesh Raiders trampled through the Twi’leks’ fields like they were little more than barren ground and purple clouds of poison spread through the nearby air - inciting coughing from everyone nearby. When possible, Tarys did prefer not to be poisoned, but this time there was nothing that could be done about it, he was sure the Kalikori didn’t have any filtered masks - else they would’ve used them by now and there was not enough time to go back to the Temple and collect one.

Tarys decided that not staying in one spot long enough to breathe any poison in was as good as plan as any, he would blink from one Raider to another as quickly as possible. This meant, however, that there was no room for mercy. Tarys had to act with lethal efficiency to avoid spending too long in the midst of a poison cloud. Oddly enough, Tarys noted, that the Flesh Raiders seemed unaffected by the poison - they must’ve been resistant to it. Bengel Morr had thought this out, making his choice of attack all the more despicable.

Ranna Tao’Ven had followed him outside and watched him assess the state of the fields. “Are you sure you can handle this? If you can’t-”

“I’ll manage,” he interrupted her, time was of the essence.

Tarys blinked to the edge of the field, then again onto the back of one of the Flesh Raiders, holding his breath and slashing across its back with his now extended lightsaber as he jumped off, teleporting to the foot of the next one. Tarys relished the feeling of blinking from place to place at breakneck speeds, it made him feel alive - even if that was scant consolation for the lives of the Flesh Raiders he was taking. After seven years of practice, teleporting no longer the toll on his body it used to. It was safe to say now he could blink enough times to not worry about that being the cause of getting tired, assuming he was well rested beforehand, of course.

Lightsabers were fast, efficient and brutal weapons when they needed to be - like now, for instance. Aside from the odd few seconds Tarys took to stand in one of the few poison-free patches to catch his breath, he was able to defeat the Flesh Raiders quickly and within a minute of teleporting back and forth across the fields, almost half of the invaders lay dead on the ruined soil.

Tarys clutched his knees as he bent down to let fresh air enter his lungs again after an eternity of holding his breath.

Battle was a fast-paced thing and so, before Tarys could truly get his thoughts in order and realise the sheer scale of the threat he faced, he was already blinking to Raiders and back, trying to minimise the number of attacks it took to take down, no, _kill_ , each of them. He was glad there was no blood.

As Tarys threw his lightsaber in order to kill the final Flesh Raider he was finally brought back to the present by the loud crackling of his left saber as it destabilised to resemble a collection of light blue lightning bolts, rather than the uniform plasma beam it usually took the form of. Again, Tarys had killed more than he wanted. His reflexes made him move before he realised what he did. It wasn’t all his fault. Surely?

No, Tarys had no time to debate whether he did the right thing - he had to destroy the machines spewing out the poison. With the same precision and speed he employed to fight the Raiders, Tarys drove his sabers into each plate-like machine, causing them to stop working and finally, after a few seconds, ending the poisoning of the fields.

Tarys coughed out the last of the poison from his lungs, thankfully his tactic seemed to work and he’d only inhaled trace amounts of it - not enough to do any real harm to his body.

He returned to Ranna who had watched the entire encounter, seemingly never having taken her eyes off the fields her people ate from.

“I saw how you fought out there. What you did out there was more than brave - it was heroic,” she told him, a grateful smile on her face.

“Please, heroic is a strong word, it doesn’t apply to me,” Tarys laughed lightly.

She shook her head, “Ever since you came here all you’ve done is risk your life to save us. Tell me, why would you face death again and again for people you barely know?”

“I can’t stand by and do nothing when I know others are suffering - especially if it’s because of neglect from my Order,” Tarys explained.

“So many of my people mistrust the Jedi. I wish they could know you like I do,” she said. “Here, please, take this as a token of our appreciation - I know it’s not much but I hope it’s enough.”

Tarys waved his hand in front of him. “No please, knowing your people are safer for my actions is reward enough.” He knew it was a cheesy line out of some fable but it was true - for the first time in a long time, the Padawan was proud of himself.

“I suppose I should go inform everyone the danger is over then. Thank you so much Tarys,” she walked away.

Soon afterwards, he received a call from Master Orgus.

“Finally put the Flesh Raider base out of commission. How are things on your end?” Master Orgus asked.

“I spoke to Bengel Morr on the holo back at the cave, he’s doing this all to destroy the Sith - he still believes himself a Jedi, Master,” he informed.

“Then he’s not Sith himself - good. If I can get to him, reason with him…” He drifted off. “You did good work Padawan, you deserve a break. Go back to the Temple for the night, I’m sure you miss your own bed.”

“I will, thank you, Master.” Tarys was extremely grateful for the reprieve he was granted. So much of the last few days had just been chasing down Flesh Raiders, an evening of quiet meditation seemed like bliss to him by comparison.

By the time Tarys had reached the Temple the sun was setting above the lake in front of the Jedi’s home, creating a reflection in the water that always took Tarys’ breath away. The universe was a beautiful thing. With that thought, Tarys decided to forego the meditation chamber and instead sat atop the same rock he and Ishra talked one just a few days prior, sitting with his legs crossed and closing his eyes.

Tarys focused on the chilly but pleasant breeze raising the hairs on his arms as he took breath after breath, in an attempt to become calm and centred. The feeling of the wind against his face was one he’d always loved, it made him feel like he was really part of the universe, the Living Force, even - as Master Satele was keen to put it. Killing the Flesh Raiders was necessary. At least that’s what he told himself and in truth, he couldn’t see any different paths to solving the issue at hand but part of him nagged - what if that was because he didn’t _want_ to find a different path? Could a better Jedi have found a better way to go about it? Ranna was thankful for his actions and he was glad, certainly, but did he deserve such gratitude? He wondered if Master Satele could have done something else in his position, if she could’ve saved Callef, the Padawan’s death weighed heavily on his mind. Could Ishra have saved him? _Probably. They’re better._

That night, he had a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for the lack of an update last week! The past two weeks have been beyond hectic and busy and just all around pretty crap so I didn't have much time to write or edit or anything. Thank goodness for my saint of a beta reader AthenaStarsnow who still had a look at this chapter so it was presentable! I hope this chapter's unusual length makes up for a little of it.


	9. A New Knight

### Chapter 8: A New Knight

It had been so long since he had one. Since he had _that_ one. Why now? Tarys turned his head to check the clock on his wall. He’d woken up in the small hours of the morning. His body was sticky with sweat as he couldn’t shake the feeling of fear from his mind. Tarys raised his hand to his face and saw it shaking. _Why again?_ He thought he was over it. He thought he was past it. Tarys tried his best to ignore the pit in his stomach as the feeling of despair threatened to swallow him whole, getting up to have a welcome drink of water to combat the feeling of nausea that was about to overcome him.

He leaned on the wall for support as he tried to suppress the nightmare he had just relived. _Two damn years ago._ That’s when it happened. And yet it was still with him. It had been almost a year since the last one. Tarys punched the wall with the side of his fist in frustration. _There is no emotion, there is peace._ He repeated the mantra over and over in his mind in the hopes that the Code would wash away his anger, his fear, his guilt. He’d failed. It was his fault.

By now, his breathing had deepened to the point of resembling normalcy but the underlying emotions hadn’t left him - even if he thought they had. Did the Force punish him for taking a break? The idea was a ridiculous one, even Tarys knew that, but he searched for possible explanations as to why after so long he had to relive that. _No._ He suppressed the thought as he focused on his breathing. Jedi remained calm - even during the most difficult battles.

Tarys decided to meditate once more. If nothing else, it would give him some sense of serenity. It took a long time, almost an hour, but Tarys did feel at peace afterwards, relatively speaking. Then his holo rang on his desk. It was Master Orgus.

“I just received a distress call from the Twi’lek settlement, they spotted Bengel Morr!” He said as he panted. “I’m on my way, meet me there!”

Where had Master Orgus been? He was already supposed to be in the village.

Regardless, Tarys braided his hair as quickly as he could and practically threw on his tunic and ran out of the Temple as he fastened his belt. If the Kalikori had seen Morr, the situation was dire.

Tarys made it back to the village in a matter of minutes thanks to the Temple’s speeder service, something he’d neglected to take advantage of before. Teleporting into the Matriarch’s complex, Tarys was met by Ranna and Teeseven, but not Master Orgus - he should’ve already been here.

“Master Orgus responded to your distress call. I was meant to meet him here, what happened?” Tarys asked, darting his eyes around to look for any sign of the Jedi Master.

“I haven’t seen or spoken to him. We didn’t send any distress call,” she said, her eyes refusing to meet his for some reason.

“T7 = scanning area // Stand by…” the droid helpfully added. “Confirmed // Master Orgus = not in settlement + not answering holocom”

“Someone had to have sent Master Orgus the distress call and they were in the village. Who could it have been?” Tarys asked Ranna.

“I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. He’ll turn up,” she replied, still refusing to look at him. “You should stay here a while, I feel safer knowing you’re here.”

Tarys felt a sharp stab in his lower back, followed by a bang and a crackling of electricity. Teeseven must’ve been shocked. Everything went fuzzy. He blinked a few times, trying to correct his vision to no avail. He had the greatest urge to close his eyes, to sleep. _A tranq dart?_ That was his last thought until he came to, Ranna standing in front of him - she was confronting three other Twi’lek, Moorint among them.

“Stop it! What are you doing?” Ranna demanded. Even at her most assertive, she seemed only a child in the face of Moorint’s authoritative aura.

“Matriarch, step aside. Handing over the Master wasn’t enough. This Padawan has to die,” the Scout Chief announced, no small amount of regret in his voice.

“I told you to leave him alone! That was the pact!”

“Bengel Morr refused your terms. This is to save our people! Out of all of us, you should see that!” 

“Ranna? Don’t tell me that…” Tarys began, hesitant to say the words.

“I was trying to save you. The Jedi are doomed - but you’d be safe if you stayed here,” she finally looked him in the eyes and hers were pleading.

“No. Jedi are never doomed, not until we give up. You made a mistake,” Tarys informed her as if it were a fact. No, not as if it were, it was. Jedi were never defeated - not until they gave in and Tarys wasn’t in the habit of doing that.

Moorint looked at Tarys. “Bengel Morr came to me. Said he’d end the Flesh Raider attacks if we gave him your Master.”

“He asked us to kill you too - but I said no. I told him we’d keep you here. You’d be safe and my people would have a protector. Moorint, please, you can’t hurt him.” Ranna’s voice betrayed her panicking.

“If we don’t do what we’re told, Bengel Morr will kill us all,” Moorint countered.

The Scout Chief wasn’t a man to relent, Tarys had learned that much in the few days he’d worked with him and the look in his eyes… he was truly convinced killing Tarys was the only option, no words would change his mind when his heart was set on that course of action. Manipulating minds was never Tarys’ preferred method of conflict resolution, but it seemed like in this case it was the only way that no one would get hurt.

“You don’t want to hurt anyone. You want to leave peacefully,” he told them, waving his hand in the air in front of them.

“I… I don’t want to hurt anyone,” the three said in unison. They dropped their blasters and walked out of the building as if nothing had happened.

“Thank you, I had a feeling Morr wasn’t going to back down - if either of you got hurt or worse- This was a terrible mistake, I was going to save you - save us all,” Ranna was visibly flustered.

“Ranna, do you understand what you did? You handed Master Orgus to the enemy! One who wants him head, and every Jedi with him. Please tell me you know where he could be - tell me it’s not too late,” Tarys himself felt anxiety taking over, if he was responsible for the death of a Council member, Master Orgus, no less, he could never forgive himself.

“Bengel Morr took him to some place called the Forge, that’s all I know. I’m sorry Tarys,” Ranna clearly regretted everything, from her actions to the whole situation.

Tarys exhaled deeply, “I don’t condone what you did, you could have found a different way… but I understand why you did it.”

“Tell me what I can do to make it right,” she truly wanted a way to atone for her mistake.

“There’s nothing to do but learn Ranna. Learn from this mistake and lead your people with the wisdom gained from it. You’ll make a good matriarch - just don’t rush to decisions,” Tarys advised.

“Thank you. I’m so sorry this happened.”

Tarys couldn’t bring himself to reply. He was glad he forgave her, beyond the fact that it was mandated by the Jedi code, but she still gave away Master Orgus to Morr. She knew he wanted to kill him and _still_ she gave him away. The Padawan balled his hands into fists and then slowly released them, alongside a long held breath. _Let me not be too late,_ he pled to the Force. He reactivated Teeseven as quickly as he could. “Go back to the Temple, I’m going after Master Orgus.”

“T7 = accompany Jedi // Save Master Orgus together” the droid suggested.

“Not today. I’m going to face Morr alone, do as I say Teeseven,” Tarys commanded.

The droid let out a disheartened trill as he rolled out of the building. Tarys followed him soon afterwards and mounted his speederbike, he internally praised himself for having the sense to bring one - every second saved was another where Master Orgus lived.

Tarys allowed the hum of the speeder’s engine to be the only sound he heard and the brushing of the wind against his face to be the only feeling he felt as he once again let the world around him blur into the background. Bengel Morr had tried to kill Jedi: Knights, Masters and even Padawans. He’d brought an army of violent natives under his control and supplied them with weapons. He’d sent his underlings to corrupt the only food supply of a struggling village in the hope to kill them. He’d manipulated a grieving and hurt Padawan into becoming his dark apprentice. He’d betrayed his Master and was about to kill him.

The crimes of Bengel Morr were many.

Then Tarys saw him. As he dismounted the vehicle, he saw the Nautolan at the foot of the ancient stairs that led to the Forge and Master Orgus Din - no, his body - lay on the ground.

“I sensed you coming,” the Nautolan announced, in his wretched voice. “Your fear betrayed you. You’re weak, like him. And you will fall, with him.”

“Then you haven’t killed him yet,” Tarys hoped, yet even with this new hope anger seeped through his restraint.

“No. Not yet,” Morr seemed to almost regret the fact, or so Tarys thought.

“You won’t hurt another soul, Morr. It’s over,” Tarys declared. Bengel Morr had caused so much pain for so many people - this was the end of it.

“The will of the Force guided me here for justice, to restore what the Jedi lost. It’s far from over. You were on Coruscant, you would have been only a child but you should still remember the greatest of the Order being slaughtered and cut down by the Sith. How can you stand back and watch as weak-willed, treacherous excuses for Masters like Orgus Din abandon the Jedi. Abandon their own!” Bengel Morr roared.

“None of us stand back and watch,” Tarys fumed. “We just don’t consider the murder of innocents ‘justice’.”

“You don’t understand, _Padawan_. The weak will be sacrificed to make us stronger. The Jedi Order must be reborn from the ashes of its defeat,” he finished, raising his lightsaber hilt in front of him and activating it - a luminous beam of bright blue light masking the darkness that had engulfed its owner.

Tarys had resigned himself to battle long before he reached the Forge - this was going to end one way: with Bengel Morr defeated.

 _Pull._ Then each of his lightsabers quickly flew into the palms of his hands and within moments Tarys brandished his own blades. Tarys marched towards Bengel Morr, this was no time to wait, he had to be - no, _deserved_ to be beaten and he would be the one to do it. He attacked Morr with all of his strength. The loud clashing of plasma overwhelmed any other sounds Tarys might have heard.

Shades of blue crashed against each other as sparks flew off into the air. The cold metal of his lightsabers had begun to warm from the sheer tightness of his grip. Even though Tarys had two weapons, Bengel Morr was able to effortlessly block and counter his every attack. Tarys tried to meet his enemy’s saber on his quillon, trapping it but Morr was just too fast. The dark Jedi changed the direction of his swing just fast enough to avoid Tarys entirely, ducking beneath him.

A droplet of sweat hit Tarys’ arm as he swung his body to find Morr.

Burning.

The acrid stench of burning cloth and flesh assaulted his nose as he staggered forward. Bengel Morr’s visage was black with the sun trailing behind him, casting the shadow of a giant. His enemy’s face revealed no emotion. The lightsaber had only grazed Tarys but even that was enough to make him clench his jaw in an effort not to scream. _This isn’t right._ He was letting his emotions get the best of him. 

The Padawan stood back up, swallowing the taste of blood and inhaling all the air on Tython. He let it all out. Bengel Morr had done unspeakable things but a Jedi didn’t not allow emotions to blind them. 

_‘We enter battles calmly’_ Master Satele had said.

Tarys teleported backwards onto one of the steps. He stumbled and fell on his back, it didn’t matter - putting distance between him and Morr was the important thing. He extracted one of the stim packs from his belt and injected it into his side, as close to the wound as he could get without actually touching it. Within seconds he felt a new vigour as the all-consuming pain dulled to an uncomfortable itch, letting Tarys focus his mind on the enemy below him.

_Jump._

The Force granted his request, propelling him high into the air. Tarys let himself fall, lightsabers in front of him, towards Bengel Morr. So far, Morr had been fighting with his mind, he did what a Jedi was supposed to and did not allow his emotions to control him - unlike Tarys.

As Tarys flew into his opponent, he surmised that Morr would step back and let him fall to the ground, leaving him open. He wouldn’t allow him that chance. Tarys pushed all the momentum he could into the front of his body. He imagined his fleet planted on the dry ground and his eyes facing Morr’s turquoise head-tentacles. He blinked.

Tarys propelled all the force he had gathered while falling forward, pushing his weapon into Bengel Morr’s back, this time creating the sizzling of battle armour burning as his robe disappeared in front of it. He tackled the Nautolan into the ground, forcing him to let go of his saber by pressing his knee into his arm. Tarys pinned Morr’s head between the long blade of his saber and its quillon, if he moved his head at all he would risk decapitation.

“Surrender, Morr, it _is_ over,” Tarys assured him.

He waited as the seconds passed and Bengel Morr seemed not to even acknowledge that he’d spoken.

“You’ve won - why has the Force guided me to this defeat?” He sounded as if he was betrayed.

Tarys let him go, quickly latching his sabers to his belt and Force pulling Morr’s saber to his hand - ensuring he stayed unarmed.

“You’re stronger than any Jedi I’ve known. You could redeem the Order and destroy the Sith. I see now. That’s why the Force made us fight. The weapons I would find at the Forge wasn’t one of my own making, it was _you_ ,” Bengel Morr reflected, meeting Tarys’ eyes.

There was no hate in Bengel Morr’s eyes, just satisfaction. Tarys had thought that his intentions were good, even if his methods were deplorable but that was before he’d tried to kill Master Orgus. Was there a possibility of redemption for the fallen Jedi that stood before him?

More importantly, did he deserve it?

Tarys had defeated Bengel Morr before the toll of his actions were allowed to grow too great but he still claimed innocent lives of Jedi and Kalikori villagers, all in the name of ‘restoring’ the Jedi Order. The Padawan’s hand rested on the button of Morr’s saber, it would be easy - trivial even - to end Bengel Morr’s life. Tarys had done it before, he’d killed murderers before, he’d killed Ortol. Bengel Morr had tried to kill Master Orgus, he wanted to kill every last Jedi on Tython. He had nearly done it, too.

What was he thinking? Tarys admonished himself, death when it wasn’t necessary wasn’t the Jedi way. Even more importantly, it wasn’t _him_. He didn’t kill Ortol, Astraia did - Tarys even protested the action for the Force’s sake! No, Tarys found it impossible to agree with Bengel Morr, or even to understand him, but he didn’t have to. All he had to do was give a Jedi who had lost their way another chance.

“Morr, you’re wrong to think the Order is weak. Go back to the Temple, seek forgiveness for your actions. Become a Jedi again. You know you aren’t what Master Orgus intended you to be,” Tarys told him. “Do that, and I promise you I will do my best to bring peace to the galaxy.”

“But not destroy the Sith.”

“Destruction isn’t a necessity for peace. You should know that,” Tarys reminded him.

“Perhaps you’re right… Maybe the Force guided me to you for a reason. I’ll try. I’ll follow your example,” Bengel said.

Master Orgus Din finally regained consciousness and spoke after regaining his bearings. “Padawan… I must have you to thank for being alive.” He turned to meet Bengel’s eyes, “Bengel… I owe you an apology.”

The Master showed a level of regret, of sheer emotion, that Tarys hadn’t thought him capable of.

“Maybe you do, Master. But we can talk about it on the way back to the Temple.” Bengel extended his hand to his former Master.

“Then… you’re coming back?”

“I’ll try to. Perhaps the Order still has a chance if this Padawan here is a product of it,” Bengel told him, nodding in Tarys’ direction.

Master Orgus approached Tarys, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Master Satele trained you well, Padawan. Bengel is right, you’ve helped avert the Temple’s destruction. I can tell you don’t realise it, but the entire Order is in your debt. Take your speeder back - I have a feeling your Master will want to speak to you. Bengel and I will take the scenic route.”

No. The Order couldn’t be in Tarys’ debt. He nearly went against everything it stood for and killed an unarmed, helpless enemy. He had to be better.

Giving the Jedi Master a solemn nod of acknowledgement, Tarys mounted the speederbike and started riding back to the Temple. This time he could take his time. If Tarys could meditate on a speeder he would, there was nothing more calming than the feeling of movement - it was inexplicable but it was true without a doubt. Trying his best to split his attention between the path and his thoughts, Tarys reflected on what he’d done and more importantly, what he’d felt.

When he found out Ranna had given Master Orgus over he just felt so angry, betrayed, unsure. _Anything_ but calm. What sort of Jedi was he if he couldn’t even control his emotions? _There is no emotion, there is peace._ He’d said that mantra to himself so much that he thought it should’ve stuck by now but apparently not, his emotions were threatening to control him. Even when fighting Bengel Morr his emotions controlled him, clouding his judgment and earning him a new wound he should have otherwise been able to avoid. He wasn’t good enough.

* * *

Tarys was sitting on his bed, it had been a long day. From his left he heard quiet hissing as he saw the door open to show Master Satele behind it. He scrambled to get up but was stopped by his Master’s raised hand.

“Please, sit, there’s no need for you to get up,” she said, taking a seat herself at the edge of his bed.

“Has something happened?” Tarys asked.

“Does something need to happen for someone to visit their student?” Master Satele replied. “No, I came to tell you that Master Orgus contacted me a few minutes ago, praise for you was basically all that came out of his mouth.”

“For me?” That couldn’t have been right, the Master _did_ say all that about the Order but he had to have been exaggerating.

“Yes. And I agree with him, your work with Master Orgus has been nothing short of exemplary,” she smiled.

“No, Master… It wasn’t,” Tarys confessed.

“You have done great work for the Order and yet all I sense from you is regret. Why? What’s wrong Tarys?” His Master exchanged her smile for a look of concern.

The Padawan breathed deeply before speaking, “I failed… At least as far as the Code is concerned. I didn’t behave like a Jedi should have. The past few days, I’ve just been so _angry._ Mainly at Bengel Morr, but then Ranna betrayed us. I knew she meant well and was only looking out for her people but I still got so mad. I was furious with her. I tried my best to hide it from her but then I thought about what Bengel would do to Master Orgus and I just couldn’t keep it in.

“Then when I was fighting him, I let my anger guide my actions. I wasn’t calm like you would’ve wanted me to be, like you would’ve been. Then… I remembered what you told me, I tried to remind myself of all those lessons and I finally got under control until he was there right in front of me. Unarmed. Master, I almost killed him.”

“But you didn’t. You’re allowed to have emotions, don’t forget that,” she began.

“But-”

“You just shouldn’t let them control you. No matter what it seems like to you, ultimately, you _were_ in control of your emotions. Being angry at the Matriarch was understandable, I would have been too. And yes, you did let your emotions overtake you momentarily but you brought them back under control, that’s what matters. It takes a great Padawan to be able to admit when they may have failed in living up to all our Code expects. You not only recognised your mistake, but you corrected it, _before_ anyone got hurt - that’s the mark of a good Jedi.

“I’m proud of you Tarys. The Grand Master of the Jedi Order could not have asked for a better student,” she told him with a foreboding sense of finality, laying a comforting hand on his forearm. “On the topic of the Matriarch of the Twi’lek village, she came to the Temple earlier and asked to be judged by us for giving Master Orgus over. What do you think should be done?”

Master Satele often asked for his opinion when it came to matters relating to leading the Jedi Order. At first he thought it was some sort of test but eventually he realised it was one of the many subtle ways Satele Shan made for a great teacher, one Tarys would be eternally grateful for.

“I think she should be forgiven. She made an error in judgment but she’s young and new to leadership. I believe that if Ranna was given the chance, she could do a lot of good for the Kalikori. Besides, we were the ones who created the instability there by not being allowed to help them when they first settled so a friendly relationship between us can only be beneficial,” Tarys explained after taking a few moments to think.

“That settles it then,” Master Satele announced, standing up.

“Settles what?”

“That you represent the best hope for our future,” she answered, beginning to walk out of his room. “Two days from now, you will be a Knight.” And then she was gone.

He was being knighted? This couldn’t have been real. It had to have been a dream. He would wake up any second, he just knew it.

Millions of thoughts raced through his mind. He hadn’t even completed his Jedi Trials. There was so much he had left to do before he was supposed to become a Knight. Tarys shook his head, he knew what he had to do. He knew why Master Satele had given him two days. He had to spend the time in meditation. Even though his Master had dropped the news on him like a bomb, they both understood the gravity of what Tarys was about to undertake.

Wasting no time, Tarys made his way to the Tythonian Temple’s version of the Tranquility Spire. It was a smaller, but no less effective copy of the one on Coruscant. Tarys would spend the next day and night here, until the time of the ceremony itself. The room itself was empty. Not a soul was in there and not a sound was made. The Padawan walked to the centre of the room and sat down cross-legged, ready to begin his meditation.

A day and a night.

Tarys closed his eyes and started paying attention to his breathing. It was normal at first, then it got slower and slower until not even he could notice it anymore. He immersed himself completely in the Force and let it envelop him like a shroud of mystery yet certainty. One of _chaos yet harmony_.

It had never been easy to slip into meditation, to forget all that was happening around him. The meditation was for a Padawan to reflect on the journey that had brought them to the gates of Knighthood and to understand the will of the Force for the future. What had he done?

He’d been raised with the Jedi; he’d been with them almost since birth, it seemed. Tarys cringed internally remembering some of the antics his younger self subjected his masters to but pushed those thoughts aside before he started wishing for the ground to swallow him whole. The first time he truly realised that he was going to be a Jedi was likely when he was almost eight years old - well after he’d started training. It was so surreal. Only then had it set in that he would one day join the ranks of the protectors of the galaxy.

Only then had he learned the legend of Satele Shan.

He remembered feeling - no, he still felt - strange about the fact that the person he saw as not much more than a caretaker was actually a war hero, a Master Jedi, a master warrior and somehow always remained the kind, compassionate and endlessly patient parental figure he’d come to… not love. No, as a Jedi, he couldn’t allow himself attachments. He smiled, reminiscing about the memories of him regaling Master Satele with tales of five-year-old Tarys’ bravery against the great beast of the Temple: Mr. Dummy.

And Master Satele listened to every word he said. He didn’t understand how, even thinking about listening to himself when he was that young made him shrivel up internally. She didn’t just listen, she even went along with it. She added little details to the stories he’d create, fleshing out his make-believe world in ways he thought unimaginable. Then, she told stories of her own. Those were often his rewards for behaving well, excelling in lessons and generally being a good little Initiate. If he was good he’d get stories from Master Satele. They were always a treat, she had a way of making it feel like you were _there_ , right with her.

A terrible sadness filled Tarys when he realised he wouldn’t get as many of those stories anymore. She wouldn’t be his Master anymore, she’d just be _a_ Master, someone everyone could look to equally. He knew it was awful to feel that way but he didn’t want to give her up. She was just such an irreplaceable part of his life. 

He remembered a time when he was much, much younger - perhaps six - when he wanted to give Master Satele a birthday present. The problem was, of course, that he had no idea when her birthday was so he just gave her a gift on his. It was a silly little thing, a hastily made bracelet that he made by tying threads of three different colours together. It was blue, green and white if he recalled correctly. Blue was his favourite colour and green was Master Satele’s and white was the only other colour thread he could ‘procure’ from the Temple. He cringed when he remembered the stern talking to he received when Master Satele learned he’d stolen the materials to make the gift - although she did seem to like it at first.

His smile turned bittersweet as Tarys began to realise he would be losing much more than he would gain by becoming a Knight.

Twelve-year-old naive Tarys was obsessed with being Master Satele’s Padawan, he had so much to prove, so much to show her. He wanted to be her Padawan for entirely the wrong reasons and he saw that now, all too late. Instead of trying to show off to someone who time and again reiterated she was proud of him, he should’ve been taking every possible opportunity to learn from her. If he had… If he had, then maybe he wouldn’t have failed her.

Two years. It had already been two years since Tarys failed his Master. Even thinking about the memory made him sick to his stomach and replaced his bittersweet melancholy with pure, unadulterated fear. He was fortunate that all he was left with was fear, he could have not left at all. If it wasn’t for Satele Shan he would have died there. He was so ungrateful for all those joint meditation sessions with her… Why didn’t he see that they would save his life? That the Force bond that they would create would be the only reason he’d live long enough to become a Knight?

And yet here she was, rewarding her Padawan with Knighthood. Every fibre of his being told him she was wrong to do so, that he did nothing to deserve the rank but she told him that she could not have asked for a better student. Could that have been true? If it was one thing he’d learned throughout his life, Master Satele Shan was not a woman to throw compliments around without need so a small, emerging part of him wanted to believe her. The Force seemed to encourage it, pushing the thought to the forefront of his mind, not allowing him to think about anything else.

Master Satele considered him a success, despite his failure, despite the nightmares and despite the amount of work it took her and Jedi healers to get him back on his feet after… that.

No. He’d be lying to himself and more importantly be doing a disservice to his Master if he didn’t allow himself to believe he truly cared about her. He’d admonish himself for his feelings later but right now, when the ritual demanded he be honest with himself, he needed to admit it. She was truly the best Master he could have asked for… and he was losing her. 

_Stop thinking like that you idiot. You’re supposed to become a Knight._

Surely she’d still be with him? Not always, not like the past six years but at least when he needed her? Once again, he was doing her a disservice. Of course she would find time for him, she always had before and he had no reason to doubt that she would in the future. He trusted her.

Then, Cademimu.

He would never have left the planet alive if it wasn’t for the help of a Sith Acolyte. Thinking of Astraia as one of them still felt wrong, he figured it always would, she just wasn’t like them. She was better. For whatever reason, the Force had bonded them and now they were in each other’s heads, possibly forever. Thinking about the conversations they’d had restored a smile to his sullen face, to say she was interesting would be an understatement. History was interesting. Science was interesting. Politics was interesting. _She_ was fascinating.

The Padawan let his thoughts go astray, flowing on their own like the Force did through him. It had only been a week but part of him longed to see her and speak to her in person. That way, he’d get to see her face. It was still clear as day. The memory of her worried eyes as he woke up from the effects of Ortol’s final assault floated in his mind’s eye like she was right there. 

“Dashing…” he chuckled to himself. She had a way of making him laugh. What would she think if she knew he was being knighted? Would she still mock him as a mere _Padawan_?

Before he could go down that avenue of thought any more, the Force guided his mind to Jodal and Ishra - the two people he was fortunate enough to call his closest friends.

If he was being Knighted then so was Ishra, if she hadn’t been already. He was sure of it. She deserved it; from what he’d heard she was an exceptional Padawan. Her strength wasn’t limited to the Force, it never had been. She had never stopped being competitive, although they didn’t get to test who was better as often anymore. Jodal too, he became a Padawan soon after Tarys did and had excelled under his Master. It was strange seeing his goofy best friend mature into an able Jedi - not that he lost his humour by any means. Five minutes in a room with him and both of them would be clutching at their sides from laughter.

He was going to have that less going forward - a lot less. Knights had to take on missions on their own, striking out independently to preserve the Republic and help those in need. It was a noble calling and he was honoured that he was going to join the ranks for the thousands of Jedi who made the galaxy a better place every single day, but at what cost? He would no longer be able to see his friends whenever he wanted, maybe holocall them, but it just wasn’t the same.

For the first time in his life, Tarys was going to be truly relying only on himself.

He was going to do it well. He had to. Too many people counted on him for him to fail again.

He knew it was time when he gradually began to see orange, the sun’s light illuminating the darkness behind his closed eyes. Tarys stood up and stretched every inch of his body - for all the love Jedi gave meditation, they never seemed to talk about how stiff and uncomfortable it became after even a short while of sitting completely still.

He was going to see a room in the Temple he’d never been in before. The Hall of Knighthood was restricted to only Knights and Masters, and even then was only used for the ceremonies - going entirely untouched any other time. The ceremony always took place immediately after the meditation and so it was always the crack of dawn when a Padawan reached their new rank. 

It wasn’t often that Tarys got to see the sunrise and all that came with it. Seeing the pink sky made him feel hopeful, the sun’s rise brought the start of a new day and like the start of anything, brought new opportunities and new chances to do good. He hoped he would be able to take advantage of those opportunities going forward. He had to live up to his new rank after all.

The door to the grandly named Hall of Knighthood was an inconspicuous one, and one of ancient design. Millennia-old inscriptions in the long-forgotten Je’daii tongue decorated the entrance. It sat at the very back of the Council chambers, which were now vacant, in a space no one ever goes - no one had a reason to. Standing in front of it, Tarys could feel the Force radiating from whatever was on the other side, it was calling to him. It was reaching out for something.

Tarys’ first instinct was to lay his hand gently on the door which produced a soft hum as the carvings on the metal glowed a pale blue before opening to reveal almost complete darkness. He took cautious steps into the room, eventually losing any ability to see he might’ve had and being surrounded by complete darkness. He counted forty-six steps until he heard the sound of dozens of lightsabers igniting to illuminate the dark in shades of blue and green, revealing the presence of all of the High Council and even some other Masters he recognised from around the Temple.

Most importantly, however, he saw Grand Master Satele Shan standing in front of him, one of the blades of her saber shining bright blue. She nodded to him, signalling him to kneel in front of her. So he did. It didn’t feel real. It all seemed like some sort of dream too fantastical to be true. It was cold and the hairs on the back of his neck stood upright, though he wasn’t sure if that was the result of the temperature or the nervous mix of excitement and trepidation he felt.

His master hovered her blade over his right shoulder before she spoke in her formal and dignified tone, “By the right of the Council…”

She moved her saber to his left shoulder as he swallowed his nerves.

“By the will of the Force…”

She brought it back to his right.

“I dub you Knight of the Republic.”

She severed his braid in a quick, deliberate motion.

“Rise, Jedi Knight Tarys Valerys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formatting should (fingers crossed) be fixed now!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	10. A New Mission

### Chapter 9: A New Mission

 _“Astraia?”_ He called out to her, laying on his bed. His now cut Padawan braid sat on the desk next to him. He was a full Jedi Knight. For some reason the first person he wanted to tell was her, he just wanted to talk to her more than anything - and he’d finally gotten a good enough excuse.

Besides, Jodal and Ishra would find out soon enough.

 _“Hello there. You know I was just hoping a Padawan on the other side of the galaxy was going to contact me,”_ she said in reply.

 _“Come on, you don’t have to be_ that _sarcastic,”_ he was a little hurt in truth, maybe this was a bad idea. He didn’t want to bother her.

 _“I’m joking, you twit. You’d think that since we’re Force bonded we’d talk more but here I am, speaking to you for the first time in over a week.”_ She seemed to lower her mental shields enough to convey her very real frustration.

 _“So you’re saying you want to talk to me more?”_ The very idea that Astraia actually _wanted_ to speak to him, rather than just putting up with him, made Tarys unexpectedly happy.

 _“I’m saying I wouldn’t mind it. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”_ And there it was. His hopes - dashed.

_“Anyway… I just sort of wanted to tell you something. I don’t know… just share something that happened recently. That okay?”_

_“Of course. I vented to you before, didn’t I?”_

_“Well… I was Knighted this morning.”_

_“That’s big. Does that mean I can’t call you my ‘dashing Padawan’ anymore?”_ she mocked as she always did.

Tarys flushed red, _“If you were here in front of me I’d throw something at you.”_

_“If I was there in front of you I’d throw it back.”_

_“Then we’d play catch.”_ He said, feigning childlike excitement.

She laughed. Tarys wondered why it was so important to him that she did. Having a joke land always felt great, being the reason for someone’s laughter was definitely up there with the best things in life but this was different - her laughter was like music to him.

 _“Okay, but seriously, congratulations. I’m happy for you.”_ She paused. _“This is nice, you know.”_

_“What is?”_

_“Just having someone to talk to. Hearing good news is always nice, especially when you lead a life like mine,”_ she sighed. _“This whole force bond… I don’t hate it.”_

 _“What’s wrong? What happened?”_ A declaration like that didn’t come from nowhere, he could tell even without their Bond that she was upset.

Astraia took a deep breath. _“Remember I told you my master ordered me to kill a Darth?”_

_“Oh.”_

_“And this dashade that’s been following me… It’s all I can do not to scream sometimes. Between all of that and having to sleep with one eye open…”_ She trailed off. _“No. I’m sorry, you wanted to talk to me to give me your good news and now I’m ruining it.”_

 _“No, don’t say that,”_ Tarys replied. _“I get it. I’d want to tell someone about it all too. I don’t have to be the one to reach out you know. Especially since I’m a Knight now - I’ll have more time to myself. Whenever you want to talk, I’m here. Well, interstellar time zones notwithstanding.”_

_“I appreciate that. I might take you up on it. Might wake you up in the middle of the night too, why not.”_

_“Please do, except for that last part. I like sleep, thanks. And for the record, I don’t hate this either,”_ Tarys gulped, he knew he was going to kick himself for what he was going to say. _“I do sort of wish we could see each other though. Talking is great and all, but-”_

_“Eye contact is better. I understand what you mean. Do you think we can send each other images again? Like at the start?”_

Tarys felt a rush of embarrassment and relief. He thanked the Force with all his being that Astraia didn’t find his suggestion weird or creepy or the million other things he feared she would think.

 _“We can try, besides we might as well learn what we can do with the Bond right?”_ Tarys posed.

_“Right.”_

_“Is it working?”_

_“Not that I can tell.”_

* * *

_“Well.”_ Astraia gave a final sigh of resignation.

 _“At least we can see colours now.”_ Tarys offered her.

_“A skill masters of the Force would envy. I don’t get it. I could see Tython clearly right after we met and now the most we can show each other is solid colours?”_

_“Come on, don’t be like that. We’ll get there.”_

_“We’ve been at this for_ hours _and this is all we have to show for it. I’m going to go mad if we try any more, let’s pick it up some other time.”_

 _“How about tomorrow?”_ Tarys suggested.

 _“Only if you aren’t busy being the most_ honourable _of Knights.”_ Apparently, even a promotion wasn’t going to stop her from teasing him.

 _“Why do you have to do this?”_ He laughed. _“I just got Knighted and you mock it.”_

 _“You know I don’t mean it.”_ She sounded apologetic. _“I’m glad you’ve been Knighted, it gives me an idea actually… Nevermind. I’ll speak to you tomorrow to practise_ colours _.”_ The Sith apprentice’s voice contained nothing but annoyance when she mentioned practice.

 _“What’s the idea?”_ Tarys asked.

_“Don’t worry about it. I just need to focus on getting more powerful.”_

_“Woah, you need to slow down. You turned the topic of the conversation on its head. What is this idea and why does it need you to be more powerful?”_ Tarys was deeply confused.

_“I’ll tell you when I am. Don’t worry, it doesn’t involve the death of innocents or anything, just exercise your Jedi patience until then, okay?”_

He suddenly felt her mental shields rise in an instant, he could feel being cut off from her - it was like a door slammed in his face. _Weird._ She sounded so distant right at the end there, like she was restraining herself and her emotions or something. Sith. Restraint. Astraia was beyond an enigma. Although that was a fact he had come to accept and one he’d come to appreciate. He looked forward to tomorrow - a wide grin formed on his face as he realised he was going to talk to her every day going forward. To say he felt good was an understatement.

Tarys finally left his room. It had been a long time since he’d returned from his Knighting ceremony but that was so early in the day that most of the Temple was only now starting their daily activities, after breakfast and morning meditation. First, he needed to have his hair looked at. The cutting of the braid was highly symbolic of a Padawan’s ascension to Knighthood and Tarys wouldn’t have exchanged the pride he felt at that moment for anything, but he couldn’t deny that it left his hair rather messy afterwards - what with the burnt ends and all.

Most Jedi that lived on Tython sported fairly basic hair and that was mainly due to the fact it was a planet almost wholly inhabited by Jedi. As it happened, his order wasn’t famous for hairdressing. _Thank the Force for droids,_ Tarys thought as he sat down in a chair with a protocol droid ready to fix his hair. He didn’t like to admit it, but the style the Order forced on its apprentices (at least on him) was decidedly _not_ flattering. As the droid worked on turning his hair into something less reminiscent of a birds’ nest, he received an alert on his holo from Master Satele: she was instructing him to meet her and the rest of the Council in an hour’s time.

It would be his first meeting with the Council as a full Jedi. The idea still seemed wrong to him. To think that he was a Jedi Knight was more than strange.

A few minutes of idle sitting later, the droid announced that Tarys was free to go - having bestowed him with a neat quiff that he thought framed his face quite well. Either way, it was far better than having uneven lengths and burnt ends on his head. 

Satisfied, Tarys made his way to the Council chambers. Maybe he would receive his first mission? By the time he made it there, he still had twenty minutes to kill before he was told to actually go in and it wouldn’t do to barge in on whatever the Council was doing before that time so Tarys sat in front of the door and closed his eyes, maybe he would do some quick meditation.

“Nice haircut. I’m guessing you were Knighted too? And you were called here to meet the Council?” It was Ishra’s voice.

“My haircut _is_ nice, I _was_ Knighted and I _was_ called here to meet the Council. Three out of three, well done, Datharr,” Tarys joked.

“Of course I score full marks, when don’t I?” She replied, taking a seat next to him.

“I don’t like that the answer to that question is never,” Tarys said, exaggerating a pout.

“You don’t get to say that when we almost always tied for first in the class, Tarys,” she laughed.

He could only nod in acknowledgement, she had him there. “Hey, at least Dragon Clan always ranked first because of us.”

“As it should. Anything less would be a crime,” she agreed. “What do you think they want us for? A mission?”

“Yeah, I think so. I have a feeling we’ll be heading to Coruscant,” he said with a deep breath. With what Master Kiwiiks said, it only made sense.

“Coruscant…”

The memory was a painful one for them both, as they were both in the Temple when the Sith attacked the Temple a decade earlier. They both sat in silence as Ishra no doubt considered what it would be like to set foot on the Republic’s capital after so long, just as Tarys did. It was difficult not to remember the screaming and shouting and rumbling as the grand structure was destroyed, taking their homes with it.

That single event had taken so many lives.

“Do you remember Aryn?” Ishra asked, turning to face him.

“Leneer? Yeah, why?”

“I was just thinking about her. She’s still out there somewhere. She has to be. She wasn’t there on Coruscant.”

Aryn Leneer was a friend of Master Satele’s and as young children were wont to do, he and Ishra practically attached themselves to them whenever they were on Coruscant - the stories the pair had to tell were incredible. He remembered receiving hearing the rumours a few weeks after relocating to Tython. Master Ven Zallow’s former Padawan had left the Order. No one knew why - none of the Initiates, that is to say. 

Ishra was inconsolable. It hurt to remember the weeks following the attack on Coruscant almost more than the attack itself. They had to leave their homes behind and find a way to live on a new planet that was only just starting to be inhabited after millennia of abandonment. They grieved their lost friends and mentors. Between all of that and the news that they would never see Aryn again, Ishra had a difficult time coping. They both did. 

“She’s out there,” he agreed. “Who knows, maybe we’ll see her again.”

“I hope so.”

Hearing about her after so long was certainly a surprise and Tarys felt more than a twinge of guilt when it dawned on him he hadn’t given her a single thought in years. She deserved more than that. Between her and Master Satele, Aryn was the fun one after all.

Before either of them realised it, it was time to meet the Council for the first time as Jedi Knights.

The doors to the chambers seemed even taller than they usually were. It was as if they were about to step into a new life entirely, even if both of them had seen the room behind the two doors countless times before. 

Inside, they were met by a congregation of all High Councillors on the planet and they all stood to greet them - something neither had seen before. It was a great honour to have the Jedi High Council stand just because you entered the room and that clearly wasn’t lost on Ishra either as he saw her similarly dumbfounded reaction out of the corner of his eye.

“Come in, Jedi,” Master Satele said, ushering them to come closer to the table.

Tarys smiled; he knew his master well enough to know she was making a point of emphasising their new ranks - it was her way of congratulating them again.

“Congratulations to you both once again on your promotions. They are well deserved and you are both exceptional examples of what younglings should aspire to be,” his master continued with a smile on her face.

Tarys’ heart stopped for a moment and his eyes grew wide. That was far more praise than he expected or deserved and to hear it coming from the mouth of Satele Shan was nothing short of amazing. Master Yuon Par joined her in reiterating the gravity of the pair’s accomplishments, stressing the importance of the fact that they had both undertaken journeys that secured the entire order’s safety against great threats that may have shaken the Jedi to their core had they failed.

Before the heap of acclaim had a chance to set in, Master Yuon collapsed to the floor. Everyone rushed to her side, what could have happened? He heard Ishra mutter a curse under her breath, did she know something? Master Syo Bakarn, one of the other Masters in attendance, kneeled next to her.

“Yuon? Can you hear me?” He called out to her.

He received no answer. After confirming a pulse, Master Syo saw to it that she was taken to the medical bay and left.

* * *

He came back some twenty excruciating minutes later.

“She’s resting comfortably now,” he announced, letting the room release the breath of apprehension they all held until then. “The healers confirmed it: she’s suffering from some sort of illness and it seems your Trandoshan companion knew about it.”

Ishra's expression betrayed her surprise, “Qyzen?”

Master Syo nodded in the affirmative. “He said she tried to heal it but made no progress herself - and that she wanted to train one last student.”

He knew his closest friends well enough to know that Ishra was struggling to keep it together, despite the strong facade she wore at that moment, and he couldn’t blame her in the slightest.

“I was her last student? She… she didn’t say anything about that. We have to help her. There must be something we can do, right?” Ishra almost pleaded.

“We’re going to send her to Coruscant, our researchers there are constantly rediscovering knowledge from the ruins of the old Temple, perhaps they will find something that can help. I suggest you follow, it’s likely she’ll need your help,” Master Syo informed.

“Sending the two of you to Coruscant is now more than ever the obvious course of action,” Master Satele said. “Originally we were going to ask both of you to help Master Kiwiiks in tracking down the Dark Side presence but it seems that duty falls onto you, Tarys. Ishra, it’s best if you get to the bottom of Master Yuon’s affliction.”

Tarys would have enjoyed the opportunity to work with Ishra as Knights but of course, Master Satele’s decision was a smart one, it was best to pursue both problems at the same time - especially since it was impossible to tell what Master Yuon’s illness actually was, and for it to be so sudden and incurable was suspicious enough to warrant investigation.

“This meeting is adjourned. Ishra, you should prepare to leave as soon as possible. Tarys, hang back for a minute, please,” Master Satele finished.

As soon as she said that everyone in the room began to shuffle out of the chambers, leaving Tarys and his master alone - had he done something wrong?

The smile on Master Satele’s face said otherwise.

“I wish I could give this to you under less sombre circumstances but Master Yuon’s illness doesn’t change the fact that today is the day my Padawan became a Knight,” she began, retrieving a small brown box from the Council’s table in front of her seat. “I know you have your doubts about whether you deserve Knighthood-”

Tarys opened his mouth to reply but his master cut him off. “And you _do_ deserve it, no matter what you think. I wanted to tell you what a fine young man you’ve become. I couldn’t be prouder of my apprentice,” she said, handing him the box.

Tarys opened it to reveal a bracelet. Blue, green and white. Just like the one he gave her almost twelve years earlier.

“You remember this?” Tarys asked, there was simply no way.

“Remember it? I still have the one you gave me,” his master laughed.

“What? I thought you didn’t like that, you gave me a whole speech about how it was wrong to steal,” Tarys replied.

“I did that because you hadn’t learned that lesson yet. The gift was no less sweet,” she told him as she undid the bindings of her left bracer. Once it was free to come off, his master showed him her bare forearm, save for a bracelet he recognised immediately. “I thought one for you would make an appropriate present.”

Tarys found it difficult to think of something to say… the fact his master had kept such an insignificant thing, nevermind wore it, meant so much to him. It reminded him all the more of the thoughtfulness and kindness that Satele Shan embodied - and to think that the Order at large thought she was intimidating and emotionless.

Well, Tarys could attest that she was the first of those two things but certainly not the second.

“Thank you, master,” he began, trying his best to keep his emotions under control. “This… it means so much to me, thank you.”

He could have thanked her another thousand times and it still wouldn’t have been enough.

They spent a few seconds in comfortable silence as Tarys connected the two ends of the bracelet around his left wrist.

“I’ll treasure this forever,” Tarys promised his master.

“I’m glad. Though I do hope you won’t wear it at all times and end up ruining it,” she laughed.

Tarys pursed his lips as he cringed at the memory she reminded him of. When he was nine Master Satele had brought back a beautiful wooden training sword from Corellia and Tarys refused to part with it for even a second, he was pretty sure he slept with it next to him for at least two weeks. That led to him being too rough with it and inevitably and breaking it when he fell directly on top of it - from the top of a tree. Needless to say, Tarys was distraught and was only placated by the promise of a replacement.

No, this gift would last. He’d make sure of it.

“I’m not planning on it,” he smiled.

“Good. Now go, you should get ready so you aren’t late for the shuttle to Coruscant. I’ll come to see you off this evening,” Master Satele said.

At this point, he didn’t even blame her for assuming he’d be late.

* * *

Tarys stood in the doorframe and peered into his room. This would probably be the last time he’d see it for a long time - there was no reason for a Knight to be sleeping in the Padawan section of the dorms was there?

He’d spent the last six years living in that room and turning away from it was much harder than he’d anticipated. He’d made more than a few memories in that room - granted most of them involved Jodal doing something utterly nonsensical in a way only he could. Tarys swallowed his emotions as best he could, he’d have time to reflect and meditate on his time as Padawan later when he wasn’t running late.

Tarys had packed practically all of his belongings into a single small suitcase. Jedi really did have few material possessions. In fairness, all he had were three sets of the same robes, his lightsabers and a few other trinkets he’d collected over the years.

Shuttles to and from Tython were based in a relatively small spaceport that was only a twenty-minute walk from the Temple proper. Tarys wondered how it felt for Master Satele to visit; after all, the port was built on the exact spot her ship first landed when she rediscovered Tython ten years earlier. Every time she walked into the spaceport she was effectively reliving history she herself made. It was baffling to him that had he not known her personally, Tarys would’ve likely considered Satele Shan some sort of legendary figure whose famous adventures were so numerous that they could not all have possibly belonged to one person.

Regardless, he saw her standing in front of the shuttle, chatting with Ishra. The two turned to him as he approached the ship.

“Look who _finally_ joins us!” Ishra said, pointing out his tardiness like it wasn’t completely expected. At the very least it was good to see that she felt better, Master Yuon’s condition seemed to weigh on her mind a little less. “Excited?”

“Yeah. At least I think so,” Tarys replied. He _was_ , of course, excited to be starting his first mission as a full Jedi but that also meant more or less leaving behind his life on Tython and that would certainly take some getting used to.

“Oh good, you’re not the only one with mixed feelings then,” She seemed to breathe a subtle sigh of relief.

“I know this is a daunting task for both of you and it isn’t often that a Jedi’s first mission is one of such great magnitude, mine certainly wasn’t, but remember that neither I nor the rest of the Council would have given them to you if we didn’t think you were up to the task. More importantly, I understand that you’ve spent so long on Tython that it’s difficult to leave, but it’ll still be here for you whenever you want to come back. If you feel that a few days away from the pressures of your mission would do you good, then take a shuttle back and rest. Both of you are in the habit of overworking yourselves and that doesn’t help anyone,” Master Satele reassured.

Normally, he’d have made some sort of quip about how Master Satele always found a way to sneak a lesson or some profound advice into every situation but this time he decided he’d just accept it. He needed to hear those words and he wasn’t going to turn them down. He also didn’t know that coming back to Tython was even an option, much less that she encouraged it if needed - it was comforting to know that should he need it, the safety net was there.

“Alright, I’m going to head on up and check on Master Yuon, don’t take too long Tarys,” Ishra told him.

“Sure, I’ll be right there.”

“Do you have everything?” Master Satele asked.

“Yes,” Tarys nodded.

“Clothes?”

“Yeah.”

“Toiletries?” 

“Yep.”

“Lightsabers?”

“ _Of course_ ,” Tarys almost rolled his eyes.

“I’m just making sure Tarys,” Master Satele said.

“I know but you don’t have to check every little thing - I’m not as young as I was when we first went on a mission,” Tarys laughed. “But seriously, thank you - for everything. You’ve done so much for me, I don’t know how I could ev-”

“It’s alright,” She dismissed him. “You don’t need to thank me. Just go out there and make me proud.

“Don’t forget to holocall when you can, okay?”

Tarys smiled. “I will.”

With that, Tarys boarded the shuttle. It wasn’t going to take them straight to Coruscant as the Tython spaceport didn’t have ships large enough to make the trip available for public use, so instead the small vessel would take them to Carrick Station, which was a space station of gargantuan proportions that served as the primary staging area for the entirety of the Republic’s fleet. From there they would take another shuttle to Coruscant and the entire trip should take them about six hours.

Tarys took a seat opposite Ishra as the craft took off and she turned to speak to him.

“Hey, you never did mention, how did you come across Master Ven’s droid?” She asked.

“I’m sorry. Master whose _what_?”

“That little guy over there, the astromech?” Ishra pointed behind him at an all-too-familiar T7-01.

“Wait you’re telling me he used to belong to Master Ven?” Tarys knew he had worked with Jedi before but there was no way he knew Ven Zallow. If he did… that meant there was a chance he knew Aryn as well.

“And _you’re_ telling me you didn’t know?” Ishra scoffed. “How do you rescue a droid and somehow know nothing about it?”

“How do you know about him?” Tarys retorted.

“I had a five-minute conversation with him and Master Satele!”

“Oh.” Tarys yielded. “Anyway, did you ask if he knows Aryn?” 

“Of course I did.”

“And?”

“He does. Well, he did.” Ishra corrected herself. “Apparently they split up not long after the Treaty was signed and he doesn’t know where she went. He didn’t want to say what happened to her after she left the Order though.”

“Maybe Aryn told him not to tell anyone?” Tarys offered.

“Maybe.”

Tarys was the one to break the silence that followed. “How’s Master Yuon doing?”

“I don’t know… Not good, I think,” Ishra confessed. “I’m worried about her. The medics at the Temple didn’t have a clue about her illness. It’s definitely Force-related, that much is for sure.”

“You’ll figure it out. If anyone can, it’s you,” Tarys reassured her.

“Thanks,” she sighed. “I hope you’re right.”

The rest of the journey to Carrick Station was a short one, spent in silence or idle chatter. That was interrupted by awed gasps as a truly massive space station came into view. To think that such a large structure was artificial… was mind-boggling.

The main body of the station was a disc, from which extended a myriad of antennae and other protrusions from the top and bottom of the disc to make the whole thing look something like an upside-down spinning top. Four ‘towers’ grew from the very edges of the disc and looked like they could house entire cities within them; in truth, they were hangar bays, designed to support dozens if not hundreds of civilian vessels. Seeing the station never failed to impress. His friend was equally mystified by the sight of the megastructure as the docked in one of the four hangar bays.

The wonders of the station didn’t end there. In stark contrast to the spaceport on Tython, Carrick Station was well staffed to the point where their arrival was as smooth as could be imagined. Their identification was confirmed while they were still on the ship, negating any need for going through customs or any such process that was common on some of the less organised planets in the galaxy, and Master Yuon was swiftly carted away by a protocol droid as Tarys and the rest of the travelling party made their way to Coruscant Departures.

There waited a Neimoidian officer who hailed them over as soon they entered his line of sight.

“Masters Jedi, you are headed to the capital, yes?” He asked.

Tarys gave him a nod of confirmation.

“Master Satele has arranged for priority transport on one of the Republic’s most comfortable and most speedy ships, yes,” He informed them. “Would you like to board it? It’s a VIP transport. Of course, you could take the public route, safe but slower.”

Tarys looked over at his friend, “Ishra? What do you think?”

“Comfort and speed sound great. Besides, Master Satele did us the favour of arranging it for us.” She confirmed.

The officer led them aboard the ship and he wasn’t wrong, the ship didn’t lack comfort. Inviting sofas hugged the sides of a grand hall where droids patrolled the paths, searching for anyone whose wants they might fulfil. Before they could take the seats that so alluringly called to them, another uniformed officer came to speak to him and Ishra.

“Masters Jedi, it’s a pleasure to have you aboard. I’m First Officer Haken, if you have any concerns or problems please let one of the staff know and I’ll make sure it’s resolved as quickly as possible.” The man introduced himself.

“Thank you, Officer Haken,” Ishra responded. “We appreciate the warm welcome.”

“Of course. Once again, welcome aboard The Esseles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm gonna take a short break for a week or two because my buffer has almost run out and I don't feel comfortable posting when I'm completely pantsing the story. I promise I'm not abandoning the story or anything, it's just a break so I can write without the pressure of having to post every week.
> 
> I don't know when exactly I'll be back but hopefully by the end of the month! See you then!  
> __________________________  
> Update 23/04: I'm still alive guys, I'm still working on this story, it's taken longer than usual because I wasn't satisfied with the stuff I'd written so far so I decided to go back to the drawing board a bit and do some better planning. The result is that I'm now super super excited about what's gonna happen going forward and you can all expect the next chapter relatively soon(TM).


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